Worthy
by twosugarsblack
Summary: A young woman who seems to fade out of existence on command becomes the focus of media for recent phenomena in New York City and a test target for SHIELD then, in turn, the forming Avengers Initiative. Cora Dempsey attempts to escape the city and go into hiding, but after some unexpected discoveries, she becomes the interest of someone potentially far more dangerous...
1. Prologue

From the desk of Director Nick Fury:

Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division Washington, D.C.

To Whom it May Concern:

All participants in Agent Coulson's response team to the recent collection operation "Camo" developments are ordered to **call off their attempts**. Any continued research will continue as planned, but all physical attempts to contact and/or contain the subject will be deemed **reckless** and will result in suspension and whatever injuries your dumbassery earned you.

Subject "Camo" will hereby be instated as a test operation of fluidity for Project "Avengers Initiative" and is no longer the direct assignment of this division. The subject has proved too dangerous and/or unstable for us to handle alone.

This, of course, excludes you, **Agent Barton**. Congratulations. You made the team. Bring more arrows this time.

_Nicholas Fury_

NICK FURY

Director (S.H.I.E.L.D.)

* * *

This fanfiction is also available on my blog on Tumblr, "Had things gone differently."


	2. Chapter 1

"I just wanna know one thing," Tony Stark muttered as he coolly adjusted one of his wristbands and then proceeded to finish off the packet of pomegranate seeds he was working on. "Why I got called out of a meeting, an important meeting, by _Agent_ over here to chase a kid."

"You know, you can call me Phil," Coulson chuckled with a patient smile as he passed the self-righteous billionaire to sit down beside Clint Barton at the conference table. "And I'm pretty sure Pepper would attest to the fact that you were otherwise unpreoccupied."

"That's my girlfriend, you're not allowed to talk to her," Tony noted over the seeds in his mouth with a wag of his finger. He glanced around the room before asking, "So, what, it's just me and Big Bird that got called in?"

"Steve will meet you at your starting point. Didn't need Agent Coulson to be distracted…," Nick Fury said with a pointed glance toward Coulson, who averted his eyes a bit embarrassedly. "We've finally been able to make limited contact with Asgard, with the help of Dr. Selvig, and though the snow-bridge or whatever hasn't been entirely repaired yet…"

"The BiFrost, sir," Coulson supplied.

"…we've been able to enlist Thor as a backup. They've been very forthcoming since New Mexico."

"Why so many recruits for this one test? I could do this solo," Tony declared unabashedly as he dropped the empty silver snack bag onto the table and sat down, the Arc Reactor glowing vividly through the fabric of his shirt. "Actually, I take that back. Seems like you're pretty well-staffed. So I can go home."

"You haven't seen this girl," Clint commented with a knowing look, habitually plucking the string of his bow to check the tension before setting it down and crossing his arms over his broad chest. "Hate to admit it, but we're going to need all the help we can get."

"How are you guys having so much trouble finding one chick? Amateurs." Tony shook his head, putting his feet up on the edge of the table.

Fury gave a small, frustrated sigh before giving the file he was holding a toss. It skidded down the glass surface to lose momentum in front of Tony and Clint, who glanced away without interest; he'd already read through the file. Tony, however, picked it up, eyes always alight when there was information or data to be packed into his already jam-packed brain. "Finding her isn't the issue. She was fairly easy to identify and even easier to spot. Agent Coulson?"

Coulson leaned forward and calmly explained, "Cora Dempsey. Twenty-five years old. Hair: Black. Eyes: Blue. Pale, five feet and eight inches tall, one-hundred and twenty pounds."

Tony opened the case file and glanced at the photo inside, giving a soft whistle. "You sure her eyes are blue? They look black."

"They're really dark, apparently. Her driver's license and all her other official documents say blue. None of us have gotten close enough to tell for ourselves."

"Why not? What'd she do?"

"Remember that incident in Central Park two weeks ago?"

"Refresh my memory," Tony requested as he pored over the documents in front of him.

Clint was the one who spoke up first. "Someone wavered out of sight on one of the park benches by the Alice statue in front of about twenty people. Then again in a subway terminal off Broadway."

"And that person was this girl?"

"Yeah. There's no one we can bring in to ask about her either. No family apart from her grandmother, who's homebound in California."

"If she's homebound, there's got to be someone taking care of her," Tony pointed out a bit impatiently.

"Yeah, her uncle, but he's only met the girl once, according to him, and doesn't know a thing about her," Fury stepped in.

"Anyway, so she's pretty simple to spot," Coulson noted. "She's not very well off, financially. Owns like four different shirts as far as we can tell, so there haven't been elaborate disguises to get through. She also has distinctive tattoos on…"

"You know how many shirts she has?" Tony repeated with an arched brow. "You get bored around here or something? Creeps, shame on you."

"As I was saying, tattoos on her back and her right wrist. She also has a stud in her nose."

"If she's so easy to spot, why haven't you caught her yet?" Tony asked, closing up the file. "You. Big Bird. You started to say something about that earlier. What is it about her?"

"Well, we catch up to her fine and then she disappears."

"What, does the wavering thing? I saw some news report on that when the subway stuff happened. It's not like she turned invisible. She just flashed a little."

"She seems to do the 'wavering thing' just enough for us to lose track of her. And it does the same thing to our equipment. The interference is…"

"What?"

"Well, it's similar to what the BiFrost arrivals did before," Coulson admitted, frowning. "It doesn't make sense though."

"This can't be the first time someone's slipped in some radioactive sludge and gotten powers. Stranger things have happened."

"It's definitely not. Most of them grow extra appendages though," he noted seriously. "But she's not radioactive in any sense and not an Asgardian. And the readings are nearly identical."

Tony snorted at the idea that there were actually weird alien-god-men up in space somewhere. "Okay, well, considering there might be these gods out there, maybe it's another kind. Maybe she beamed down from Krypton or Vulcan or something."

"Vulcan's highly unlikely since it got blown up," Clint offered, earning a roll of eyes from Fury and Tony, both.

"My point is, if there's actually one other 'world' out there besides ours," Tony noted, hooking his fingers through the air to punctuate his doubt, "there could be more, right?"

"She's been on Earth her entire life though and so have, er, _had_ her parents. You saw the birth certificate, the diploma, the driver's license, the degree… All of that's there. In fact, her family dates back through the centuries, no problem."

"What happened to her parents?"

"Car crash. She was inside, but came out with just a broken arm."

"Did that have anything to do with her?"

Coulson shook his head. "Just a freak, tragic accident."

Tony nodded, not having to open the file back up to reassure himself there were all those documents inside. He'd seen them and his suggestion had been to exhaust all possibilities. "What's the interest here?"

"Interest. And she's a potential threat, should she opt to use her…talent for bad intent. It'd be ideal for a thief, a spy, really any covert operative position out there. She doesn't seem like a criminal yet, but we'd rather get to her before that happens," Coulson explained.

"Not much of a party. Just picking up a runaway," Tony murmured as Fury retrieved the file.

"You say that now, but I think it might be more of a challenge than you think."

"Tell you what, Stark, I'll give you a five minute head-start when we find her. See if you can catch her on your own," Clint smirked.

"Could with my eyes closed, Barton. In fact, _will_." Tony got up from the conference table and cracked his fingers. "Heading out, when?"

"Now. There's not much time to waste," Fury noted. "Don't do anything stupid either."

"Aw, Nick, didn't know you worried about me," Tony said with mock affection.

"Not as much worried about you as what your cocky ass gets me into sometimes. Now that you're working as part of the Initiative, you're going to have to act with a little more forethought."

Tony snorted. "Some of my best ideas come from impulse." He gave a flippant salute and then walked out of the conference room, seeming to walk on clouds of his own confidence.

Fury gave an exasperated sigh. "Our definitions of 'best' are very different…" He looked over to Clint as the other man rose up, starting to follow after Tony. "I'm counting on you, Agent Barton."

"Won't disappoint you, sir," Clint said decidedly as he left as well with an inclination of his head.

Coulson looked toward Fury with a raised brow, but a smile still on his face. "You sure you don't want me to accompany them, sir?"

"You've done enough for now, Phil," Fury told him easily. "Let them give it a shot and we'll see where we're at. It couldn't get any worse than it already is."

"Wouldn't say that too loudly, sir," Coulson chuckled. "But, for the record, I wouldn't have been distracted."

"Lying doesn't suit you, Phil."


	3. Chapter 2

Cora sniffed a little as she peered up at the diner menu, light circles beneath her midnight blue eyes and her mouth a thin line with lips pursed by indecision. She listened to the bustle around her, for the first time in her life drawing comfort from a crowd as she tried to breathe evenly and not reflexively throw glances over her shoulder.

She'd skipped town at last, heading back across the country toward her west coast roots, if only to give those strange suits the slip. The smaller one with the balding head and charming smile, who'd introduced himself first as Agent Coulson and then as Phil, had seemed nice enough, but after what had happened in Central Park and the Broadway subway terminal, she knew no one with a badge was on her side. It had become increasingly apparent with the UFO crashes and the weird demolition in New Mexico that anything deemed "out of the ordinary" would be dealt with immediately on a level of confidential severity. And she had a feeling she wasn't prepared for that.

She sighed a little when someone butted in front of her in line, but figured there wasn't much point in fussing about it right now; she didn't even know what to get. Potentially running for her life and she couldn't even pick something off a breakfast menu. One of the employees at the counter asked for probably the third time if she was ready to order and she finally caved and asked for two bagels, toasted, with a few cream cheese packets tossed in the bag.

Five minutes or so later, she sat on the curb outside in the blistering Arizonian heat, slathering half-melted cream cheese on one of the bagel halves, her mouth watering a little. She was starving and tired. She'd been barely sleeping in her car for the past few days when she hadn't been driving nonstop, living out of a suitcase and a cooler she'd only managed to throw a few things in before hightailing it out of the place she'd only just started to welcome as a new home.

Cora took a bite of her bagel and while she was terrified of the authorities along with her newfound handicap of sorts, she was pretty angry about the whole thing, too. It would figure that getting a job—a great job, at that—just one year after graduating university would warrant something catastrophic to take place in her path. She wondered if Lacey, her roommate, was wondering at all where she was or just taking the disappearance as an opportunity for her sleazy boyfriend to stay over without Cora bullying him out at one in the morning.

She worked on another bagel half and glanced down at herself, making sure she was still in full form though she knew fully well she would be. It had only seemed to happen when she was in danger, or perceived danger; she'd seen an…_unfavorable_ ex of a few years past in Central Park and a man had tried to pull her purse away from her when she was getting on the subway.

Cora nibbled her lip and murmured quietly, "Can't I feel stable for just one day without something kicking me off course?"

The answer, as the world had proclaimed time and time again, was no. She couldn't.

Cora took a sip of her soda once she'd finished her breakfast, in the process of getting up when a slightly peculiar group down the street caught her attention. They were like service bars in height, the shortest looking cocky and seeming to be mouthing off to the tallest one, who looked like some wonder boy out of a fashion ad or maybe some cliché millionaire's son. The one doing the big-talk wasn't necessarily short, but he looked about as tall as she was and he, admittedly, had a rather impressive beard…

* * *

Down the way, Tony had snorted dismissively in Cora's general direction when he saw her. "She looks pretty solid and not-wavering to me. Go get her."

Steve Rogers gave an uncertain glance toward Clint, who shook his head. "Thought you were going to complete the mission, no problem, Iron Lung," he remarked before sobering a bit. "Nah. Not that easy. Anyone briefed you, Rogers?"

"Not really," Steve admitted with a small frown. "Is she a threat?"

"No, but she's not easy to get close to. We shouldn't get any nearer until we have a plan," Clint noted, pinching the bridge of his nose a little as he thought.

"Not like we can see her very well from here anyway," Tony complained, squinting against the sun. "You're sure it's her?"

"I can. And yeah, I'm sure."

"Oh, right. Bird eyes," Tony muttered with a flippant wave. He stretched his neck a little before saying in a professional tone, "JARVIS, the suit's ready and raring to go, yes?" In his ear, he heard the prim and proper robotic assistant's confirmation, but he was met with a look of disapproval from both parties. "What?"

"Don't call your suit. It'll freak her out."

Tony held out his hands with an indignant drop of the jaw. "The ladies love the suit."

"Not terrified ladies who are running for their lives," Steve argued with a sympathetic glance down the street toward the woman eating her breakfast curbside.

"Thought you weren't briefed."

"I didn't have to be to know that, I just had to watch the news."

"How long did it take you to get the TV to work?"

Steve started to retaliate a little just as Clint interrupted them. "Stop."

The two followed Clint's gaze and noticed their target had gotten to her feet and now had her hand poised over a trashcan, her dark eyes directed at them. A full three seconds hadn't passed before she started walking off at a more hurried pace down the street.

* * *

Cora clenched her jaw as she tried to hurry along without giving away that she'd realized what they were there for. More agents, she assumed, from the same organization that had knocked on her door one morning just two weeks ago. She recognized the brown-haired one with the focused eyes; he'd been outside her apartment building and she'd seen him from the window. Not on the sidewalk, but on the opposite complex's roof, watching.

She couldn't help the desperate way her speed inched her along, gradually upping the pace to her car. Cora dug around in her purse for the keys, cursing herself for just tossing them in there willy-nilly in the pursuit of food stuffs earlier that morning. Finally her fingers grasped one of her keychains and she pulled the ring from her purse, selecting the right key as she hustled to the beat-up Honda, just hoping they'd stayed where they were and she was overreacting.

Cora let out a yelp when something shot past her and sank into the keyhole of her car door, stumbling back with wide eyes as she took in what the sleek object was: a long _arrow_ made up entirely of some kind of metal…

"Ma'am?"

Cora whirled around, noting that Golden Boy was toward the front of the group, the other two tailing a bit and talking amongst themselves. The smaller one still seemed to be picking fights and the one next to him was holding the bow that must've loosed the arrow now piercing her poor car.

She looked back at the tall, cut blond man walking over, his hands raised with his palms facing out as a gesture of peace. There was a large circular object hitched to his back that looked somewhat like a shield, but she couldn't discern what it actually was. "It's okay, we're not here to hurt you. We just want to talk."

"Funny way of showing that," Cora murmured breathlessly as she reached down and tried to yank the arrow out of her door to no avail.

"Sorry about that," the bowman said, though he didn't sound very sorry.

"My name is Steve Rogers," the blonde tried again, offering up a smile that was even more charming than Agent Coulson's. "I'm on your side and no one here is going to hurt you, I promise."

"Unless you try to hurt us, of course," the short one noted bluntly, smiling briefly. "Tony Stark."

Cora's brow knitted slightly and she nodded. "Yeah, I thought I recognized you." Tony grinned gloatingly at Steve, who wasn't even looking at him. "What do you want?"

"To talk. As Steve said," the agent with the bow said without much emotion to his tone.

"I have a feeling that's not all," Cora noted, starting to step back a little when she decided they were getting too close.

"Probably not. But talking seems like a good start, right?" Tony reasoned, earning sour looks from both his allies. He blew out a gusty sigh at their disapproval before looking at her again. "You're not stupid. That's obvious. So don't act stupid; come with us and we'll figure out what's going on with you, okay?"

"I thought I told you to let me handle this," Steve pointed out perturbedly and, just as he turned to look at Tony, Cora took off like a bat out of Hell.

He whirled back around in surprise before Clint sprinted past him with an exasperated, "Come on!" Steve and Tony glanced at each other before hurrying after Clint and Cora, who was keeping well ahead of them despite the heat and the terrain.

"Dammit, what am I thinking?!" Tony exclaimed breathlessly after a minute before shouting, "JARVIS!"

"Right away, sir," JARVIS replied immediately and, within a few minutes, pieces of Tony's armor began to catch up with them, collecting on his form until the suit was complete and he was able to kick off from the ground and rocket up ahead of Steve and Clint, siding up with Cora.

"You know, this isn't a great way to make allies," Tony admitted and he almost laughed at the disgruntled look on the girl's face when she looked over at him. "You're hurting our feelings, kid. Mostly Steve's because he already doesn't have any friends."

"Heard that!" Steve shouted as he used his superhuman body to catch up with them, leaving Clint to keep pace behind them. "Miss, really, we just want to—"

And then, suddenly, she was gone.

"Good job, Uncle Sam, you made her do the thing. What the hell is going on with my readings…"

Steve blinked at the space between them, not knowing quite what to do. "You talked to her longer than I did, Stark, if it's anyone's fault, it's—"

"What the hell are you two talking about, she's right there!" Clint shouted from behind them, seeming evermore aggravated by the way things were going.

Tony and Steve again looked between them, but there was nothing there and it was hard for Tony to focus on anything past the hyperactive error messages and flickering on the inside of his mask. "What are you talking about, Hawkeye?" Steve shouted behind them. "Where?"

"Right between—wait, no, she's gone for me now, too," he corrected himself, blinking widely ahead.

Cora wasn't gone, but she was booking it just about ten feet ahead of Tony and Steve now, using their confusion (which had consequentially slowed them down a bit) to put some distance between them. She tried not to focus on what she was doing or even how she was doing it, just trying to let it happen long enough to get her away from them, even though she knew it was fruitless. Unless they stopped, she was done for.

Clint pressed a finger to the bug in his ear and shouted over Steve and Tony's deliberative argument ahead, "Barton to headquarters, does someone copy?"

"We copy you, Agent Barton, what's your position?" he heard Coulson say clearly through the speaker.

"Just outside of Clarkdale. Have you got Selvig in position to connect us to Asgard?"

"Affirmative. Hold on for just a moment." Clint waited, squinting against the sun. He saw a form waver slightly about fifteen feet ahead of Steve and Tony.

"Come on…," he murmured, trying to focus and keep track of the bare glimmer of a figure. Even with his eyes, she was near impossible to see.

He heard Coulson come back to his line just before he said, "Positions confirmed for both Selvig and Thor. Though it's uncertain whether or not he can make it through the wormhole."

"You're telling us this now?!" Clint grunted, earning some inquiring looks from Steve and Tony, who had quieted down to listen. "Keep your eyes ahead, watch for her!"

"I'm just reporting the facts, Clint. What's your order?"

Clint hesitated briefly before replying, "Open it. Open it now!"

It was a brief moment before he heard a crack through the sky, and then a rush of wind picked up around them, making it hard to breathe for a few seconds. The three looked up as a small maw opened, seeming to be in efforts to sustain itself while devouring itself in turn. Clint's gaze was the first to move back to where Cora should have been and she was there again, her confusion and distraction causing her to lose control a second time. "Steve, throw your shield!"

Steve looked ahead and saw Cora, too, starting to reach back for his shield before shaking his head. "Negative, I might hurt her!"

Clint started to reach back for one of his arrows, but didn't see a clear shot he could take that wouldn't likely result in injury for her also. He cursed before patching through to Coulson again. "Thor's the only one who can lift his hammer, right?" he asked, waiting for Coulson to confirm what he already knew.

"Affirmative. Didn't get that impression from New Mexico?"

"Just making sure," Clint gritted. "If he can't come through, have him hurl the hammer. Do you have a way to tell him that?"

"He can probably hear you right now. The gatekeeper regulating the Asgardian end seems to be very in tune with the universe, including us."

"I can't decide whether or not that's comforting…" Clint glanced up warily at the wormhole and shouted, "Throw it! Throw it in front of her!"

A minute passed before thunder cracked across the desert and a small bead of glinting metal came hurtling down, the bead taking shape into the ancient hammer as it came closer into view. It hit the ground about twenty feet ahead of Cora and she stumbled as the ground crumbled ahead of her, crying out when the crater formed and she toppled down into the newly formed ditch.

"All right, kid, we're doing this kicking and screaming, I guess," Tony called as he flew down into the crater toward the fallen girl.

Cora shook her head a little as she started to sit up, forcing her limbs to push her sore body to her feet. She wouldn't give up and become a prisoner or a lab experiment, not without a fight. That wasn't how she did things even though losing seemed inevitable at this point. Her eyes fell to the projectile that had caused the earth to cave in beneath her, surprised to note that it was some kind of hammer, but willing to accept that it was her only chance for a weapon to hold them off. Cora leaned down and grasped the handle.

"Not a great idea, it won't—," Tony started, but bore witness in league with the other two men coming down the slope of the crater when the slender woman hauled the hammer from the ground as if it weighed just a few pounds.

"Well, shit," he was able to remark just as Cora clocked him across the facemask with Mjolnir, sending him flying backward into Steve just as he'd slowed down to a stop at the base of the crater.

Clint stared wide-eyed at Cora as she wielded the Asgardian god's hammer like it was nothing, just seeming a little shocked that she'd been able to put that much force behind it to knock Iron Man spread-eagle back against the dirt. In his ear, he heard Coulson venture a hopeful, "Did it work?"

"You're…not going to believe this," he murmured back breathlessly.

* * *

Nearby, eying the portal back into Asgard, a being even less visible than Cora at her most threatened paused and glanced back at the mortals scrambling about on the ground.

The hammer wasn't the passing god's problem; he already knew he couldn't lift it, so there wasn't much point in pursuing it into the crater. However, the long silence following its strike—and the potential reason for the strike in the first place—did peak his curiosity. That curiosity swiftly transpired into surprise when the man in the iron suit flew back against one of his companions with a force the passerby knew quite well.

Edging toward the crater just enough to see over the rim, he warily looked down, taking in with some surprise the woman at the center, his brow furrowing in confusion until he saw what she held in her hand.

As he processed this development with a calculative stare, he took one more set of brief seconds to contemplate the shivering portal in the sky before his gaze turned back to the woman, a slow sneer-like grin curving his lips. "Well… Isn't this interesting."


	4. Chapter 3

Cora panted from her run, but didn't back down from the men who had pursued her, and who were now regarding her with more than just uncertainty. At least, the bowman was; she couldn't see Tony Stark's expression behind the iconic mask and Steve was too deeply plastered behind him in the rock at the moment for her to even guess at what he might be thinking.

She watched Tony peel himself from his imprint before stumbling forward, sparking a bit at the joints. "Is… Ugh," he clutched his head before shaking it quickly. "Is she allowed to do that?"

Clint could hear Coulson asking questions in his ear and then Fury loudly demanding what the hell was going on, but he ignored it, simply in a state of shock. "This isn't possible…"

He had a feeling Steve was unconscious from the hit he'd taken and now with the mythological hammer no longer on their side, they were severely outnumbered. Clint was well aware that if it had knocked Captain America out cold, it'd render him comatose at best.

Cora was shaking slightly, afraid the nicer agent, Steve, might've been severely injured or even killed from impact. Sick to her stomach, she started to step forward, but froze when she felt a change in the air; the temperature had dropped by a few degrees and an unearthly stillness swept over the immediate area. The bowman seemed to notice it, too; he looked around warily and reached back for one of his arrows. Or maybe he'd just opted to kill her.

Before either of them could figure out what exactly the next course of action would be, Cora sensed someone nearby, the strange presence ambiguous and diffused around the crater before it suddenly concentrated behind her and she felt a pair of steely arms haul her back against an equally hard body, the both of them fading out into limbo before she could muster an open reaction.

A large hand moved up to press to her mouth before she could loose the yelp of distress that hitched in her throat and she heard a small "hm" of contemplation above her head before she was simply tugged off her feet despite her struggling, waltzed out of the crater, and successfully separated from the SHIELD operatives. But at what cost?

She growled testily and tried to swing the hammer back at him, but he kept her arms held tightly down. "Sleep," he muttered frustratedly when she didn't stop making things just a little more difficult for him, and he cut off her airways just enough that she passed out in his hold. "So fragile," he noted with open disgust before tying the leather loop at the base of the hammer around her wrist and tossing her over his shoulder.

* * *

Back at the crater, Clint blinked in disbelief. Had she done her trick again? No, there had been someone else there. Very briefly. She'd looked too shocked to have done it herself and she'd skidded backward just before disappearing.

Somewhere through the nearly closed portal in the clouds, Thor watched Clint approach the spot where Cora had been just a moment before, a look of shock on his own face; not because she'd been able to lift the hammer only he, his father, and the blacksmiths who had forged it had ever been able to move, but because of the aura that had flooded the area just before she'd vanished.

"I know that magic," he murmured under his breath, still shreds of equal parts hope and dread on his face as he turned away from the opening that finally snapped shut behind him, striding past Heimdall's knowing gaze and back toward the palace.

Clint frowned faintly, but shook his head, putting the arrow he'd extracted back in his quiver before tapping the bud in his ear. "Still there, Phil?"

"Yes, but could you not smack the earpiece? Sends a lot of feedback my way."

Clint stopped, glancing toward the sky to see that the wormhole had closed. Before Coulson could ask, Clint murmured honestly, "I don't know what the hell is going on, all I can report is that we lost her again."

"What happened?" he asked and it sounded as if Fury had asked the same question in unison, which drew a sigh from Agent Barton's lungs.

"I think… I think that would be best explained once we get back to headquarters, sir." Hearing a groan from the indent in the rock, Clint walked over and peered in. "Agent Rogers, report?"

"I'm fine," Steve replied with a small wince as he started to make his way out of the dry ground. "I would've been fine anyway, but this took most of the impact." He tapped his shield, which was still positioned across his back before he took a look around. "So, she's gone?"

"Yeah," Clint said, frowning as he heard Fury now demanding how in the world Steve had even possibly been less than all right, only with a much more colorful variation of word choice. He wasn't surprised; the iconic hero was amped up with all the strength, agility, and endurance a non-mutated human body could muster; he wasn't someone who could be taken down by just anybody. "As I said, we'll explain everything once we're back."

He started to ask Tony if he was good to go, but realized he'd already shot off, going high into the air and glancing down at the surrounding area before coming back down outside the crater and murmuring, "Take back the suit, JARVIS." The suit started to shift away from his form before clustering and hurtling upward, then backtracking to where it'd come from earlier. Tony looked a bit shaken up, a bit pissed, too, but no worse for wear. He started walking back toward town, leaving Steve and Clint to follow.

Once the two had gotten out of the crater and glanced back over the sheer size of it a moment, Steve looked at Tony, who was about ten yards ahead of them. "So we ended up with a lot of hurt pride and no girl. What even happened back there?"

"Know much about Norse mythology?"

Steve looked thoroughly perplexed by that as he and Clint continued walking back toward Clarkdale's outskirts. "Um… No, I guess I don't."

Clint gave a very halfhearted smirk before noting, "Well, you will."

* * *

When Cora slowly resurfaced into consciousness, she felt strangely airborne with a solid pressure against her belly, soon realizing the heat in her head was because she was hanging upside down. She gave a small grunt and weakly brought her untethered fist down on his back just before she felt his hold shift, which was the only warning she got before she was spilled to the ground, wincing as already-sore limbs were bruised. The hammer tied to her arm hit the floor with a metallic thud and she looked at it with wide, startled eyes, the ancient etchings across the head glinting in the sparse sunlight.

Swallowing against a dry throat, Cora glanced up, only half expecting to see the desert crater around her again. She wondered if maybe they'd had some covert operative sneak up on her and get her when she wasn't looking or something, but she hadn't seen anyone else with them and she certainly wasn't where she'd been before. Her eyes fell upon concrete walls and floors, along with shelves of boxes and assorted baubles. They appeared to be in some kind of warehouse and—by the amount of dust littering the contents—she doubted anyone had been there in a long time.

"What are you?"

She tensed, her jaw taut with apprehension as she slowly turned to look at who had spoken: a man of great height with black hair barely touching his broad shoulders and uniquely chiseled features housing eyes the color of vivid pines. He wore strange clothes of emerald and black with what looked like an armored exterior, but that was the least of her concern. Cora's brow creased a little in regard to his offhand question. "Excuse me?"

"I said," the man murmured with his nonexistent patience swiftly decreasing as he looked down his nose at her. "What. Are. You."

"I'm tired. And hungry. And all kinds of things, all leaning toward pissed," she noted with impatience of her own as she glared up at him, her anger renewing her bravery.

" 'Pissed'?"

"Mad."

A fissure formed between his own brows at what he saw as impertinence, but he did look down at her with slightly altered consideration. "And which one of those has made it possible for you to wield that hammer?"

"I'd place my bets on the anger," she noted and he seemed to find that amusing in a way not hedged in any way toward humor; he was sardonic with every move and every quirk of his smirking mouth.

"Think you that you have a god's wrath?" he whispered daringly and for the first time she noticed that his crossed arms bore hands clenched into fists. She took that into account as she remained silent. "For that equivalent alone could only reach this weapon's worth, now I will ask one last time: _what are you_?"

"A… A Californian?"

He frowned, not having expected that. "There is no such realm."

"It's a state. In the US. Here."

He paused heavily, his eyes narrowing before he murmured, "You…are mortal."

"Uhm, yes?"

There was a pause before he scoffed softly and shook his head. "A mortal using… There must be a mistake." The man leaned forward and reached a pale hand toward Cora's, which rested on the hammer.

"No way," Cora muttered and she tugged it away from his reach, turning around and scrambling back a few paces now that her instincts had overridden the shock. "How did I get here and who are you?"

"Stay still or let go of the relic," he growled quietly as he advanced on her.

"Answer my damn questions!" she retorted, getting up and positioning the weapon, ready to swing it if she had to.

He paused and seemed to weigh his options with narrowed eyes holding glimmers of hurt pride and aggravation as the looked between her and the hammer in question. "I will make you a deal. I will answer the questions you've already presented… And you let me see that. Agreed?" Cora considered this very uncertainly, but before she could agree or attempt to disagree, he added, "I do not intend to use it on you. It is a simple test."

Cora pursed her lips and muttered, "Start talking."

He could do little to hide the fury that seemed to roil in him, but made good on his word. "You are here," he gritted softly, "because I brought you here."

"Where is 'here'?"

"That is not of importance and not something you asked."

Cora squinted suspiciously and, after a moment, murmured, "_You _don't even know where we are, do you?"

He glared at her before admitting, "I have not been to this realm more than a couple of times before."

"Why is everything a 'realm' with you?" Cora asked, slightly relaxing her stance as she realized he didn't seem to be threatening her. At least, not at the moment. His height was a bit intimidating for her though; she was used to being amongst the tallest in the room.

"Everything _is _a realm, mortal," he pointed out as if she were stupid before presenting his hand for the hammer.

Cora looked at it before asking warily, "What exactly is your test…?"

"We shall both find out once you hold up your end of the bargain," he noted, not looking horribly excited over what might follow. It seemed to be more of a confirmation of something he already knew.

Against her much better judgment, Cora loosed the knot of the cord around her wrist and angled the handle toward him, releasing her hold upon the hammer once he had a grip on it. To her utter shock, the muscular man in front of her plummeted to bend toward the ground, the hammer digging into the dirt with his fingers still latched around it.

"As I said," he gritted, giving it a good pull before giving up. It hadn't even twitched, even with as much force as he'd put upon it just then.

"What…," Cora murmured with wide eyes. "What did you do?"

"It is nothing _I _did," he snapped as he straightened back up and rubbed a tiny amount of dust off his hands, which had risen up with the hammer's rejection. "Now pick it up."

"If you can't even manage it, how do you—"

"You could before," he interrupted. "So do it again."

Cora gave the hammer a doubtful glance before bending down and taking the handle, pulling up with all her might only to nearly fall on her ass when it came up as reasonably as the first time she'd lifted it. She caught herself on the wall behind her, but barely, and looked down at the hammer with a bewildered expression. "But…"

"Just as I expected," he murmured more to himself than to her with a look of pure exasperation and jealousy, as if whatever was going on was extremely ironic.

"Why is… I sound crazy, but why is it doing that?"

The man looked at her fleetingly, seeming to measure her up again before he turned his back to her. "Stay here."

"Hey, wait! I don't even know where 'here' is and you want me to just—"

He didn't look back at her, just kept moving, his cloak fluttering faintly. "You will stay here, as I said. Stray and I will only bring you back."

"_Why_?" Cora demanded.

"Because, mortal, as trifling as it is, I can use this oddity of yours to my advantage," he told her. "And in turn, those agents will have lost your scent. Doesn't that sound preferable?"

Cora said nothing for a moment until she saw him start to fade out. She'd not been sure earlier if it had been her power that had pulled them from visual existence, but now she was certain that he'd been the one to make them disappear, which caused even more questions to rise up to her lips. Maybe he knew a way she could manage her power, if that's what it was. "My name isn't 'mortal,' it's Cora. And you never answered my other question."

Once more, his bored, condescending eyes slanted down to her, and he only said, "I am Loki, of Asgard," before disappearing into thin air.


	5. Chapter 4

"I thought you had this handled," Fury assumed aloud to Clint as the archer walked back into the conference room, Tony and Steve following along behind. Tony still looked irritated by the outcome of their mission; he wasn't saying much about it, which only served to illustrate just how miffed he was.

"I thought we did, too, sir," Clint noted as they all sat down at the table. "We might've if I hadn't called Thor into action; I claim full responsibility."

"So, what exactly happened?" Agent Maria Hill asked as she sat down near Director Fury, a frown on her sternly set face as she tried to understand how things had gotten so out of hand.

As requested, Clint began to explain the backfired mission's events, from when they'd spotted her on the curb, up until he'd fallen behind in their chase through the desert. Tony took over the narrative at that point, noting boredly, "While Rogers and I were on either side of her and she 'disappeared,' my systems started going berserk. Then she fell, I went to grab her, and she swung the hammer at me."

The impact of a pin could've been heard in the spacious—and now utterly silent—conference room, and the shock on Fury and Maria's faces would've been comical were it not for the severity of the situation.

"She…_what_?" Fury asked edgily.

"She picked up the mystical hammer and clocked me in the face," Tony murmured irritably. "No idea what happened after that."

"What _did _happen after that, Agent Barton?" Maria pressed.

"She vanished," Clint finished, frowning. "But I'm not sure it was of her free will."

"She doesn't seem to have a handle on her powers, it probably _wasn't_ her choice," Steve supplied with a small shrug, glancing down the table at Clint.

"I don't mean that, I mean she skidded backward a little before she disappeared."

"She 'skidded backward'?" Fury repeated in disbelief. "You mean to imply that there's another motherfucking Houdini out there?"

Clint smirked a little, but the expression was half-hearted. "Who knows, there might be. Maybe they're just better at being inconspicuous."

"But what you're saying is," Maria began with slightly narrowed eyes, "that someone helped her escape?"

Steve took his gaze from Clint to the two SHIELD higher-ups across the table before replying, "I think what he's saying is that someone took her."

* * *

Given her abundant thirst for knowledge, Cora could only guess that it was a mixture of shock and fatigue from the stress of earlier that had kept her from tearing the warehouse apart to figure out where she was. It was reaching evening by the time she moved to her feet to scout out a switch, all after seeing the sunlight lessening from the windows high upon the concrete walls.

It felt surreal to move around in the unfamiliar space, like if she went just a little too far, the warehouse would disintegrate, and she'd be back in the desert all over again or maybe even back in her bed at her apartment in New York. However, even as that outlandish prospect came and went, Cora knew she wouldn't be so lucky that this might be a dream. She wasn't Alice and this was most certainly not Wonderland. That was punctuated by the amount of dust that collected on her fingertips just from touching one of the neglected shelves as she passed by.

Her captor of sorts had left about a half-hour ago, seeming to be glad to have a break from her questions and the amount of demand that came with them. She didn't feel badly about her persistence; the least he could do was fork over some answers. It bothered her that she didn't know who she might be helping, nor if she really had a choice. He came off as at least slightly reasonable, but she couldn't bring herself to trust that impression. After all, he wanted something from her—something he couldn't necessarily force out of her—and she'd been able to tell earlier just from the way his white hands had curled into fists even whiter with tension that his apparent tolerance was little more than a manipulative ruse.

Switching the hammer to her left hand, she pulled out her phone and used the light radiating from the screen to check her path. Despite her numerous distractions, she was still experiencing some nausea from the turnout of the day.

Superheroes. The government had sent actual _superheroes_, Iron Man included, after her. Did that make her a menace now? Just because she was different and not sure how best to hide that?

Her lips pressed into a thin line and she couldn't stop the combination of melancholy and anxiety that overcame her, despite subduing it quickly. Cora's eyes fell to the weapon in her hand and the symbols that riddled the surface, though she could barely make them out in the slowly consuming darkness. Trying to get her mind off SHIELD and the danger she was potentially in, she glanced over the engravings along the edges and the circular spoke on the top. They looked like runes, but nothing she'd ever seen before.

She turned her phone away from the etchings and started to open an app for Google until she gave that some thought and snorted. _Yeah, good job, Cora, I'm sure you can just type these obscure symbols in for a translation. Too bad that's not how it works…_ However, Cora momentarily reconsidered that and figured maybe she _could_ do a search for different types of runes in general, then match the ones on the hammer to a set that surfaced. She was keying that in when suddenly a chill prickled up her spine.

As the threat became more real to her, instinct and panic took over when she whirled around, her fist colliding with bone, causing a small grunt to issue from the receiver of her punch. Once she realized what she'd done a few seconds later, she held up the phone a little higher and the light washed over "Loki, of Asgard," lighting up his milk-hued skin and placing tiny reflective shimmers in his eyes.

His head was tilted slightly to the left and she could only infer that her fist had landed against his jaw when he reached up to touch that exact spot, his expression one of disbelief. She'd gotten landed with the pain, it seemed; her hand was positively throbbing. "Seriously?!"

"What?" he muttered, glaring at her. "You strike me and I am at fault?"

"You snuck up on me! _Don't_ sneak up on me!" she commanded, the startled reaction his sudden appearance had elicited in her taking her vocal pitch a few notches higher. "I could've hurled this at you and really done some damage!"

"I do not 'sneak'," he retorted as if offended before staring down the sharp angle of his nose at her. She got the impression that he didn't like even the bare potential of being overpowered; then again, she didn't know anyone who did. She lowered her phone and heaved a small sigh that drew the tension from her muscles, her shoulders falling slack.

"What _is _that?"

"What's what?" she blinked, looking down before realizing he must've meant the phone. "It's a cell phone," Cora replied with a frown. At his blank stare, she elaborated, "It makes calls, sends messages, you can use the internet on it…?" After evaluating his still baffled expression she tilted her head and noted, "You really _aren't_ from around here, are you?"

"No, I am not. As I stated previously, I hail from Asgard." Loki looked down at the gadget before asking, "So it is a communicative device?"

"Essentially, yes. That's right." His curiosity over something she found so commonplace was oddly endearing. "So, what's Asgard?"

"A realm separate from your own."

"And what's my realm?"

He arched a brow down at her before remembering just how obtuse certain aspects of human knowledge were. "Your realm is called Midgard." She nodded a little before he asked with some suspicion, "What were you hoping to accomplish over here, anyway?"

"I was trying to find a light-switch." He was silent for a long moment until she clarified with a featherlight, though jeering, tone, "You flip it and things go bright."

"You needn't speak to me as if I am a fool," he murmured and his tone was spitefully unappreciative again.

"I didn't say you were. Heard of sarcasm?"

He started to smirk a little, despite an effort to restrain it. "I have dabbled in such a practice, yes."

"Somehow I think you've more than just 'dabbled' in it. Looks like we found some common ground, 'Loki, of Asgard'," she smiled as she continued to look for a switch on the walls. "Speaking of which, as an Asgardian, you wouldn't happen to have night vision, would you?"

"Not exactly," he replied, but she noticed him move his hand and turned just in time to see a lit torch spiral out of thin air in his hand. "Ah, do not touch or the illusion will fade." His tone was surprisingly relaxed as he spoke of the illusory magic, though Cora was too intrigued by the trick to notice the change. She withdrew her hand and nodded for him to lead, putting away her phone so she didn't kill the battery.

"Can everyone from Asgard do things like this?" she asked curiously as she walked alongside him.

He shook his head. "No. Just myself and my…and the Queen."

"Interesting," Cora murmured thoughtfully, squinting at the torch to try and find some sort of break in its realism. Her eyes shifted to the hammer after she gave up. "What do these markings mean?"

Loki glanced toward the head of the hammer before seeming to reluctantly divulge, "It's Mjolnir's creed."

"Is that a person?" she inquired uncertainly.

"No, Mjolnir is the hammer."

"Oh." Cora looked down a bit sheepishly. "So, it's a prophecy? Kind of?"

"In a way."

"But what does it say?" she ventured to ask, holding it out a little so he could get a look at it. However, he didn't even glance at the hammer before reciting a phrase he seemed to know quite well:

"_He who wields this hammer commands the lightning and the storm_."

She raised a brow. "Is this well-known in Asgard?"

"It is," he said quietly, his features twisted by something that may have been hatred. "It is a considerable weapon of equally considerable power. You have not even begun to skim the surface of its abilities."

"What else can it do?" Cora asked, looking down at the mighty hammer with renewed interest.

"It may _command the storm_," Loki repeated bluntly, earning a short glare from Cora before he answered more seriously, "You've already explored its concentration of strength. Should it leave the hand of its wielder, it may be recalled."

Cora raised a brow and asked, "Then why hasn't its owner taken it back from me?"

The man in green and black thought that over a moment before admitting, "Its loyalty may be torn. Because it rests in a hand it proclaims worthy, it may feel little need to go to another just yet."

"Then I'm keeping it from being recalled?"

Loki smirked and gave a short, dark chuckle. "I daresay you are. Oh, to see my brother's face as he fails to bring back his trusted crutch…"

"This is your brother's?" she asked in surprise.

Loki seemed to tense, his smile fading into a grimace of distaste. "It belongs to the fool I once called my brother, though he is not…"

Cora could sense some conflict there, so she sidestepped it for the moment, trying to work through this sporadic conversation in such a way that she'd get its entire worth of information. "So, why can't _you_ use it?"

Loki's dark eyes, flickering a little from either the fire or the magic he was using to conjure it, turned down upon the hammer before he sneered, "It does not deem me suitable." Cora got the feeling as he answered her that their talk-time was wearing thin. She fell quiet and looked down at the hammer with consideration, mulling over his translation in her head. She was honestly shocked she'd gotten him to answer any of her questions, but then…

She looked up at Loki and asked warily, "One more question: why are you answering my questions?"

"We are presumably on the same side, are we not?" he asked coolly, no longer meeting her gaze. "I can spare a few insignificant answers for your entertainment, I suppose, while this…alliance lasts." In his head, he corrected his word choice to "allegiance." A mortal was not on the same level as he, not even close. No matter how strange a mortal she was.

Cora thought about that. Was she on his side? She wasn't even sure what his side was. And what would happen after she'd given him the aid he was hoping for? "I'm still not sure what you need my help with."

"Claiming my rightful place in Asgard. As its king."

Her eyes widened significantly. "King?" He looked at her thoughtfully; her lack of knowledge of Asgard and what had taken place there—particularly recently—was oddly refreshing. No Asgardian would accept him as a ruler because they were predisposed to Odin and Thor, no matter their own faults. He saw a clean slate in her gaze, waiting to be written upon. "But if you're the rightful king, why do you need me?"

"I don't _need_ you. I said—"

"You know what I meant," she muttered a little irritably as she started to reach toward a panel on the wall, only to realize it was for a garage door or another similar mechanism. Still, she took note of where it was.

Loki's brows rose at that, but he explained vaguely, "There are some issues with lineage."

"Your brother?"

"He is _not _my brother," he growled down at her and Cora frowned back disapprovingly. He gave pause at seeing this, having seen a similar expression on his mother's face numerous times before. All the pain and anger of his discoveries in Asgard were still raw, but the memory was enough for him to recompose himself for the time being and civilly say, "His father wants him to be king in my place."

"Why should you be king instead of him?" she inquired, idly turning the hammer over in her hands.

"I am more fit to rule. He is the epitome of brutish behavior and strength; that has not changed since his banishment."

Cora's eyes narrowed, "He was banished and he's still going to be king? What'd he do?"

"Acted like a brute," Loki stated as if it were obvious.

"By whose standards?"

"Mine and his father's."

"Are you adopted?"

Loki blinked and gave a reflexive, "What?"

"You slipped earlier and called this other guy, the one who's next in line to be king, your brother. But you refer to this other man, who I'm assuming _is _king right now, as _his _father. So, are you adopted?"

"I was misled by the King," Loki murmured coldly. "I was made to believe that I was a part of their family, that I was their equal, when I was no more than a consolation prize taken out of pity and politics."

"What would—"

The Asgardian prince interrupted her with an exasperated sigh before noting, "Need I remind you that you said 'one more question' approximately twenty questions ago?"

"More like six," Cora replied defensively, wrinkling her nose at him. "This is all new to me." He didn't have much to say to that and another inquiry sparked in her mind. "If—hold on, what's your not-brother's name?"

Loki squinted at her before murmuring, "Thor."

"Well, if Thor's been banished and deemed unfit to rule, why isn't your not-father placing you on the throne?"

Her terminology was oddly comical, but he replied with a bitter smirk, "I am not worthy in his eyes. Thor was always the favorite… Now I know it was because he is the sole legitimate heir."

"But you're still Asgardian. And a part of the royal family. Isn't that enough?"

He shook his head. "Not quite."

"Not quite, what?"

"That's enough, mortal," he murmured with a tone of finality, though a bit wearily, scratching at his left hand.

Cora sighed, but backed off, toying with Mjolnir. "So…where did you go earlier?"

Loki gave her a look so exasperated, she may have laughed where it not for her surprisingly dire situation. She had a feeling she was still in a bit of shock, repeatedly forgetting that a government agency was after her and this apparently alien king wanted her to help him put a foreign land under his thumb. "Out."

"C'mon, _King Loki, of Asgard_," she teased lightly, a smirk on her lips. "I'm pretty sure before I agree to help you—and I know I have to agree because this thing isn't going to move itself—I'm going to have to trust you a little."

He seemed to be warring with himself over this, but exhaled slowly with a roll of his eyes. "There is a power source here I am interested in using to my advantage. I have been checking on it."

Cora nodded and closed the interrogation for the time being, looking at the leather-wrapped handle of the hammer with undying interest. Loki's eyes moved back to her briefly when she finally found her light-switch before he shook his head at himself and how this impulsive detour was turning out. He also began to wonder who was really in charge here.

* * *

Back at headquarters, after extensive deliberation, Tony, Steve, and Clint all filed out of the conference room, leaving Agent Hill and Director Fury alone at the table. Fury wore a decidedly grim expression and Maria noticed when she glanced over, asking, "So, now what do we do?"

"I don't know," Fury sighed as he stood up, looking none too thrilled. "But Big Brother SHIELD isn't going to like this."

* * *

Once more, this story is also available on my Tumblr blog, "Had things gone differently," where my username is also twosugarsblack. Expect a new chapter every Wednesday and a fond thank-you to those who've already chosen to follow me so far. (: Some humor in the next post. Stay tuned.


	6. Chapter 5

Cora's limbs felt stiff and pained when she roused the next morning, her eyelids heavy even as she lifted them to peer around the room. For the first few seconds of waking, she had a lapse in memory and wondered where she was. However, realization dawned and she sighed, turning over in her makeshift bed of old blankets and a flour sack she'd found in a few of the dust-coated boxes toward the back where the light-switch had been.

She wasn't awake for more than a couple minutes when her stomach growled quietly. It wasn't like Cora was surprised she was ravenous—after all, she hadn't eaten in probably twenty-four hours by now—but it was a bit of an inconvenience for her body to demand food when she had none to give it. Maybe if she just snuck out and went somewhere nearby, she wouldn't need to aggravate the man who was already pretty aggravated with her, but also blessedly keeping her off SHIELD's radar for the time being.

Cora started to get up when she glanced toward the opposite wall, surprised to see Loki and even more surprised to see him asleep.

He sat like the warriors she'd seen in old paintings, his back against the wall and his legs pulled up closer to his chest. His arms rested over his kneecaps and, while she was sure he could spring to action at the drop of a hat, he looked so peaceful. So peaceful, in fact, she wasn't sure if he was even the same person she'd been dealing with the day before. There was none of the anger, the bitterness, or the exasperation etched into the subtle lines on his face; he looked young and, if anything, he looked quite serene.

It didn't last long though; within seconds of her looking at him, he'd opened his eyes and they'd immediately focused on her, his brow creasing with a question. "Going somewhere?" he asked quietly, pointedly.

She felt the chill seep into her bones just from his tone and she wondered how someone could have that much influence with only their voice. She shook it off and said, "Yes, actually."

Loki hadn't been entirely expecting her straightforward answer without at least a _little_ fearful cowering, but he was starting to get the impression that there were absolute multitudes of differences between this woman and the others he'd known in his long lifetime, and not only the mortal ones. "And what makes you think that?"

"I'm hungry and I want food," she murmured matter-of-factly.

"Ah yes. I forgot how pathetically needy your little systems are," he sighed before standing, running a hand absently over his hair. "Very well. Where may I procure food?"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I said I'd go," Cora argued, frowning as she got up, too, trying to right her tousled locks while maintaining a staring match with him.

He looked at her in that strange way he did sometimes, like he was measuring her up and taking apart everything she was to put it into a more understandable equation. "No."

"Excuse me?"

Loki glared and retorted, "You heard me, mortal."

Lifting up the hammer she still had tied loosely around her wrist, Cora scowled and murmured quietly, "I _will _use this."

He raised a brow and pressed a single fingertip against the hammer, guiding it down from his face. He wasn't willing to admit it, but his jaw still smarted a little from where she'd hit it the night before. To his slight consolation, he noticed that the knuckles of her dominant hand—which now held Mjolnir in only a marginally less threatening grip—were bruised. Though he paused to wonder why that sight bothered him as well…

"Are you even listening?"

Loki blinked and looked at her. "There was nothing said worth my listening, but you listen close," he said as her expression turned comically affronted and he felt more than ever that she might actually swing that infernal weapon at him. "I am denying your request because of_ that_."

"I only threatened you with it because—"

"Sh, just listen to me a moment," he murmured with a strain for patience that surprised both of them. "It would be conspicuous and warrant questions. However, if you were to separate it from yourself, it may be recalled. Not only that, but you are wanted by the government sect; they will be looking for you. My face is not yet known here."

Cora frowned before gustily sighing; he made a good point. "Want to give me a general sense of where we are so I can tell you where to go?" At his frown of displeasure at her having forgotten that he didn't know their exact location, she sighed and rephrased, "Have you seen any places around here that look like they sell food?"

"There was a shop I passed yesterday that appeared to have breads in the window…"

"Good, okay, go there and… Do I really only have a fifty?" she murmured with a frown when she pulled her money from her pocket. She shrugged and instructed, "All right, go back to that shop and get two—no, three—plain bagels with cream cheese for me and get something for yourself, too. Then give the person behind the counter this. She'll give you smaller counts of money back. Bring that and the food back here. Understand?"

"Are you giving me orders?" he asked, not looking at all happy about being talked to like a child.

"Yes, I am, because you're new here."

"I have used currency before, you know."

"I'm sure you have."

"But what is a 'bagel'?"

"What depressing world did you come from where there aren't bagels?" He scowled and she waved her hands a little, the hammer swinging a bit and smacking her lightly in the ribs. "Okay, okay, I was kidding! Jokes, remember, I'm still under the impression that I'm funny! Now, go."

"…Just stay here," Loki growled before he walked out of the warehouse.

* * *

Forty-five minutes later, Cora was listening to her stomach moan again when the door opened. At first she panicked because she didn't see the familiar hulking form of black and green she was getting used to, but she soon realized it was Loki, just…

"What are you wearing?" she asked in surprise.

Loki looked over his shoulder at her with a blank expression before giving a small, "Oh," of recognition and dropping the illusion of a blue button-up shirt and jeans from his frame, his Asgardian attire returning beneath. "Blending in." Cora had to admit, she hadn't minded what he'd picked out. She minded even less the mouthwatering smell of fresh baked goods that hit her after a few seconds of the door being closed. "Did it not look inconspicuous?"

"You looked fine. The blue was a good color on you," Cora answered honestly. "I hope my change didn't fade along with your illusion though." She only had so much money and if she was going to be on the run for a while, she'd need to really use it sparingly. Luckily, their breakfast only would've cost around six bucks.

Loki held out his hand and dropped a few coins into her hand. She waited patiently for the rest and it was only then that she looked at the box he was carrying, noting the massive size of it. "…And the rest?"

"What 'rest'?"

"…You spent forty-nine dollars on bagels?"

Loki got a bit defensive as he noted, "I require sustenance as well."

"How many bagels are in that box?"

"…Sixty."

"SIXTY."

"Yes, sixty! Is there a problem?!"

"You better be eating about fifty-six of them. Hell, yes, it's a problem! I only had fifty dollars!"

Loki didn't like the way her incredulity was making him scramble to explain, almost as if he valued her opinion of him or something equally outlandish, but he hastened grumpily, "Look, I will replenish your funds and this will be more than enough food for a while yet, so…" He trailed off when he realized she'd broken into a fit of laughter. "What amuses you?" he demanded, his face reddening a little.

Cora had been mad at first. Rather feverishly so. But the fact that this alien-god who would be king had dropped nearly fifty dollars on a box of bagels because "he was hungry, too," had gradually sent her from frustration to endearment then, ultimately, to sheer amusement.

"Nothing," she laughed, wiping tears from her eyes. Perhaps it was because this was easily the most uncomplicated, absurd problem she'd faced in the past few days. It felt good to have a bit of a laugh. "Did they at least give you enough stuff to put on them?"

Loki nodded tightly and inclined his head toward a bag he had balanced on top of the box.

"And a knife?" she asked, still smiling as she looked at him. He checked the bag and shook his head. "All right, I bet there's something of use in here. Go ahead and start." She got up and went to scour through a few of the boxes at the back of the warehouse, where more trivial supplies seemed to be kept, though he heard her laugh a little more once she thought she was out of earshot.

Loki sat down against the wall and opened the box, taking out one of the circular breads before tearing off a piece and experimentally popping it into his mouth. He had to admit, it wasn't bad.

He'd gotten through two before Cora returned, a pack of napkins and a box of plastic knives in her hand. She sat down next to him—a bit too close for his immediate comfort, though she'd not meant anything by it—and tore open the plastic with the edge of her nail, taking out a knife and opening the bag for one of the cream cheese tubs that had come with the obnoxiously large box of bagels. She was still giggling about it, but she was able to keep silent, which she thought was enough until he asked, "Do you normally vibrate when you eat?"

"Shut up," she told him, a tiny laugh escaping her and earning an indignant glare from the god at her side when he realized she was still humored by the stunt he'd pulled. Cora popped the lid off the tub and dipped the edge of her knife in before slathering cream cheese across the half she had balanced in her hand. He watched her and, a moment later, copied by putting some on the edge of his own, just enough to taste, finding that somehow with that addition, the already-delectable bagels managed to get even better.

Content that her appetite was finally being appeased, Cora started on the second half of her first bagel, but she'd sobered from her laughter. She really couldn't remember the last time she'd honestly laughed, at least for the few weeks this dangerous dance with SHIELD had been going on. Loki noticed the change in her just seconds after it took place, not looking at her as he asked, "Has your anger toward me renewed?"

"Why would that matter to you?" she asked a bit rhetorically though he was wondering the same thing. "No and I wasn't angry with you before either. Maybe a little frustrated, but not anymore."

"Then what ails you?"

Cora frowned before giving a general wave away from her. "All of this. How things could've changed so much in, well, just three weeks or so."

"It is hardly something for which to look so somber. You have not been captured—by the agents, anyway—and you are alive. You have power, is that not pleasing to you?"

Cora shook her head a little after some thought, her eyes downcast toward her knife, which was absently milling cheese into the very pores of her breakfast. "No. Not in this world," she said quietly. She smiled a little bitterly. "I'm a freak. The looks on those people's faces in Central Park, in the subway, when I…"

"Most do not value what they do not understand, they spurn it, but why lay so low as to accept their misconceptions? Who cares how they look at you?"

"You don't understand," she said and, above her downturned gaze, Loki opened his mouth to argue that yes, he did, more than anyone, but he stopped, his left hand tightening. Even so, his frame had subconsciously relaxed beside hers throughout their feast and conversations, and that did not change even then.

They ate in silence for a bit longer before they'd demolished about a third of the box, Loki having done most of the damage. As he was working on his last, Cora heard him say, "We will work on it in the time we have here."

"What?" Cora asked in confusion, looking up at him.

He didn't look at her, but he did clarify in a rather stony voice after swallowing the last bit of his breakfast, "Your gifts. We will work on them."

Cora wanted to argue that they weren't gifts, that the strange invisibility thing she did and the capability for her to lift the hammer were the curses that had brought SHIELD upon her head, but she didn't. If anything, she was surprised he was offering at all.

_Learn what you can, from who you can, right?_ she figured silently as she nodded in confirmation that she would indeed see what he could teach her.

* * *

Some humor for today. (: Stay tuned for Part 6, coming next Wednesday.


	7. Chapter 6

Director Fury stepped into the conference room alone, his hands behind his back until he shifted one to the switchboard on the table. The window panes flickered before the view outside switched over to a connection screen, a dial of dots spinning steadily as he channeled the board and, consequentially, their senior leader, Alexander Pierce.

While Fury knew that they would see eye to eye as they always had, especially on matters such as these, he wasn't looking forward to delivering the other bit of news: that there was a person out of their ranks who could wield the destructive alien-hammer and who was now a fugitive from their division.

He watched as the meeting timed in, three faces appearing in their own blue panels on the glass. Alexander's was the last to connect and he looked weary, as had most of them since the incident in New Mexico and the nationwide unease it had caused, but prepared to discuss what Fury and the Avengers Initiative had found out about the phenomena taking place.

"Director Fury, it's been a while," Alexander said calmly, smiling.

"That it has, sir. I've news to report on Operation Camo."

"Go ahead, Nick," he said with a nod, folding his hands in front of him and giving the SHIELD director his full attention.

"Agents Stark, Rogers, and Barton managed to locate the target again near Clarkdale two days ago."

"And was she brought in?" asked one of the other directors taking part in the conference. He'd only met her once, when Steve was revived and reintroduced into the modern world, but he soon remembered that her name was Agent Sharon Carter.

"Negative. The plan backfired just enough that she got away again."

"I thought you were enlisting the future Avengers."

"I did. Three of them there in person, one as on-location as he could be for the time being. Asgard's connection to our world is still broken and unreliable, according to Agent Coulson and Dr. Selvig."

"Good," the third agent on the screen said decidedly. Fury didn't recognize him.

"Director Fury, this is Richard Warren of the World Security Council. He came to meet with me and asked to sit in on our meeting, given the slight uproar Camo has caused in New York."

"Good to meet you, sir," Fury said with a brief inclination of his head.

Warren ignored his comment and continued with, "So you had Avenger candidates on the job and the target was still able to flee?"

"The difference between blowing someone up and capturing them is large," Fury said firmly. "If we want her to work with us, we need to work with her first and that's exactly what they were doing. As instructed."

When Warren had nothing to say to that, Alexander said, "So where is she now?"

"Her location is again unknown, but she can't hide forever."

"You said there was a lot to tell, Director Fury," Agent Carter intervened with an arched brow. "I don't think we've heard the 'lot' yet, have we?"

Fury paused, but only briefly. He'd rather not have spoken to Pierce about it in front of Carter or Warren, who simply weren't necessary for involvement, but he replied calmly, "Yes. Her power was already known, but she was also able to pick up Thor's hammer."

Alexander's eyes widened, half shocked and half impressed. "How?"

"We've yet to discover that. This was only found out at the tail-end of the mission. By all parties."

"She didn't seem to know she'd be able to lift it?" Agent Carter asked, interested.

"From what Tony and common sense tell me—both very separate parties—she didn't know she couldn't. She had no idea of what it was because, well, why should she?" Fury looked at the council member, who wore a composed expression he knew meant some kind of shitstorm was on the rise.

Alexander nodded a few times before saying, "Right. Thank you for your report, Director Fury. Keep us updated."

"Will do, sir." And the connection ceased.

Fury glanced down from the glass panes which were once again large windows, pursing his lips slightly. He'd purposely neglected to tell them Steve and Clint's notion that she'd been taken rather than able to escape alone. It wasn't so much that he had a problem with splitting the truth to their superiors, but he wasn't looking forward to what further issues this ally or enemy might cause if they were right.

* * *

"I don't even know what caused it to happen those other times, so how am I supposed to trigger it now?"

Loki frowned down at her before muttering, "Stop talking and just try." He'd spent the rest of yesterday catching up on what was going on with the Tesseract, using Selvig's consciousness to get the information he truly desired. He could see it was starting to wear on the mortal a bit, but he could've cared less. He was a pawn and it would come time to put him into play soon enough.

Because he'd been gone the rest of the day, not showing up again until late that night after his human inmate was sound asleep on her makeshift cot, he'd figured today would suffice for the "practice" he'd suggested to her. She'd not been that keen on it—namely because he'd prodded her awake to get an early start, which she hadn't seemed fond of—but he kept his word when he could. For some reason hearing her call herself a "freak" the night before had spurred him to do something.

_"For some reason_,_" _he repeated in his head, a sardonic half smile working onto his face. _Because you are a freak, yourself. At least to the home you believed you had._

Loki came back from his thoughts to look at the woman nearby, who had her hand up against her chin, her brow furrowed in concentration. So much so, her face was beginning to flush. Biting down a quiet laugh, Loki said, "You are thinking too much."

Cora glanced up at him, the crease between her brows easing as she responded, "Is that possible?"

He smirked down at her. "Very. Power is complex. It takes intelligence to dominate it, but emotion to fuel it. The trick is to get it brewing and then put on the reins."

"Why are you doing this anyway?" Cora asked with a tilt to her head.

Loki shrugged and said matter-of-factly, "You are of no use to me untaught."

_Makes sense, actually_, Cora admitted only to herself, though her expression was efficient in communicating her thoughts. "So. Emotions, huh?" She wasn't overly fond of that; she was one to barrel everything up inside and decompress when she knew she was alone. She'd only had a few truly sound times in her life and one had just gotten ripped away from her by the very power she was now trying to channel.

"Maybe what you felt the other few moments it acted on its own."

Cora pursed her lips, thinking back to those three occurrences. "I think I… I was afraid."

Loki acknowledged logically, "That would make sense for what your manifestation was."

"Then I'm just supposed to scare myself somehow?"

He sneered, his ivy eyes alight with mischief. "Care for some help?"

Cora glared at him and made an "x" with her slender fingers, backing away a few steps. "I can manage, thanks." He chuckled as she turned away and began thinking through her options. Her first attempt was a complete failure, as she'd try to recreate nearly getting robbed in the subway terminal, but just the memory wasn't enough to even cause a flicker. Pursing her lips, she pulled out her phone and began scrolling through the apps until she found her photo gallery. She needed a fear stimulus.

She frowned when she shifted her weight and Mjolnir—which was tied by the leather cord to one of her belt loops—smacked her lightly in the leg. "Is it absolutely necessary to keep this on me?"

"Yes," Loki said simply, not elaborating until she asked him why. "If it is out of your reach, it might be recalled. I cannot say how well it would travel between realms, but I am not willing to risk it."

Cora rolled her eyes and went back to what she'd been doing, rapid-fire scrolling until she came to a set of pictures she'd never revisited to delete. The photo appeared happy, but she knew it wasn't—at least, not for her. It was of her and her ex, James, the one she'd seen in Central Park the first time her abilities had apparently decided to manifest.

"Who is that?"

She jumped and felt the familiar little _whirr_ of energy in her bones and across her skin as she faded out of sight. As soon as she realized what had actually happened, her visibility returned and she gave a small breath of relief, though she still sounded on edge. "I thought I told you no helping…"

"I did not intend to," Loki replied, wondering how someone could be so easily startled. When she didn't say anything else, he nodded to her phone and again asked, "Who is that?"

"Me."

"And?"

"…James." Loki waited for her to explain, looking equal parts curious and disinterested, if that were possible. Not knowing if he'd understand the term "ex-boyfriend," she answered, "We were in a relationship once."

"Why aren't you any longer?"

"He didn't react well to things," she admitted, glancing down at the concrete floor.

His gaze turned wary. "How did he react?"

"He, um, hit me a few times. Not because I'd done anything, just, well...because I was there."

"Did he do anything else?" he asked straightforwardly though he now recognized she was speaking of abuse. A strange feeling of anger was working its way through him as he watched her pause and struggle to find the right words to answer him. Her conflict was so subdued, he had to struggle to simply see it.

"He tried. Once."

Loki clenched his jaw. "And?"

Cora thought about that, considerately noting with a lingering tone of sadness, "…I suppose that was the first time power 'manifested' for me. He was twice my size and I threw him into a wall…"

"Well done." Cora looked at him in a bit of surprise, but he was perfectly serious. "Though I can not imagine _you_ allowing someone to treat you so indignantly."

"I did though. For longer than I should have," she said embarrassedly. "I think everyone does at some point in their lives. And then you grow from it."

A silence passed between them before she suddenly diverted their little practice session. She put away her phone and suggested, "I don't seem to be doing very well at this, so maybe we could work on this instead? You said it could do other things," as she took Mjolnir from her hip.

Loki was a bit relieved at the topic change and said, "Yes. As I said, it can be recalled and Thor used it to bombard enemies with lightning, cause it to rain, and fly."

"He could fly with this?" she asked incredulously.

"He can, but I would not recommend you trying it. You would hurt yourself." He was only half-teasing.

Cora glowered at him before looking over the hammer, trying to figure out how to use it. "Well, basics first, I guess… How do I call it back?"

"Throw it. Hard." Cora gave it a good throw, hearing Loki say behind her, "Now bring it back to you." She had no idea how to do that and the hammer fell to the floor, dust rising up around it.

"That was the worst explanation ever," Cora noted as she looked over her shoulder at him.

He tried not to laugh at her and only just managed not to before suggesting she pick it up and try again. "Be one with it. Treat it as a mere extension of your arm."

Cora took a deep breath after picking up the hammer before hurling it forward again. With all her might and spirit, she willed it back to her. Her hand shot forward of its own instinctual accord and Mjolnir paused in midair, switching direction and coming back to her, its handle aimed toward the curvature of her palm. She caught it, but the force sent her backward. She braced herself to hit the floor, but she felt two large hands against her back instead, stopping her fall.

She glanced up into Loki's face, feeling a bit sheepish, but strangely frozen, too. Not from the temperature of his hands—though they were cold through her shirt—but from locking eyes with him. That stillness was only dissolved when he murmured, "Perhaps you should use a little _less_ concentration next time."

"I'm thinking too much again?"

Loki smiled and the expression was strangely kind. "Exactly."

* * *

Later that night, they were snacking on bagels again. They had quit around an hour after her little mishap with recalling Mjolnir successfully for the first time and, after that, she'd worked on using just the right amount of willpower to bring it back without sending her onto her backside—which had happened a couple of times. It made her feel better to know she was capable of that little trick now, just in case it wasn't by her side when she needed it, though Loki seemed hellbent on keeping it tethered to her at all times.

Cora looked over the weapon with renewed interest and a good sense of accomplishment. She'd not succeeded at what they'd set out to do today, but she'd been able to do something correctly at least. She thought back to what he'd said about the lightning and wondered if she could just use a little of that energy to make a light source. The use of her phone was causing its battery to wear out faster and she'd tried every light-switch in the old warehouse as evening had fallen the night before to no avail; they were all dead bulbs.

Loki had finished his "dinner"—if there was one thing he missed about Asgard, it was the food; bagels were getting a bit monotonous—and watched Cora out of the corner of his eye as she fiddled with Mjolnir, seeming to be attempting something with it. His eyes widened marginally when there seemed to be a spark of energy from inside the head of the hammer. He wondered if he'd simply seen a trick of the minimal light in the room until the spark grew more pronounced. "Careful, what are you—"

"Sh, hold on," she whispered, her eyes trained intently on the engraved spoke and not moving until a soft blue glow spread throughout the steel, radiating forth from the symbols in particular. There was a faint play of static around the edges, but it set forth enough light to outline the immediate area in a soft electric glow.

Cora smiled broadly, feeling accomplished and entirely unaware of Loki's gaze, now fixed upon her and his brother's weapon. His brow beetled subtly; he'd never imagined that Mjolnir could be used in a way that didn't edge toward violence. He'd gone with Thor into many a fight in their time as brothers and seen the destruction that hammer had caused to their foes. And yet here was this human woman opposite him, encouraging its power to show in a gentle way that made it more of a nightlight than a weapon. She was in control.

His teeth clenched faintly as he pondered that. This mortal could do what he couldn't. As the light grew and then slowly faded from the dwarf-forged steel in her hands, a dangerous envy began to brew anew in his heart.

* * *

Got some Loki-rage coming next week. Stay tuned and thanks for reading. (;


	8. Chapter 7

Loki had left long before the sun had risen the next day to see how the mortal scientist's research on the Tesseract had progressed, or at least that's what he told himself after being unable to doze off for the entirety of the short night.

There was a growing frustration cycling through him and, even as he waited for the Midgardian scientist to show up from the break his superiors had forced upon him—he seemed to be becoming more and more obsessed with the Tesseract—he was pacing the steel bridge overlooking the lab. He felt the cool sensation of his seithr sliding over his armor to fuel his illusion of invisibility, but it was such a natural touch after all this time, it did little to distract him from the fact that the mortal girl he'd left at that old storehouse was capable of what he'd never been able to achieve.

He gritted his teeth, only appeased as the scientist was let back into the lab and began working again on the field the glowing cube of energy was emitting along with what it could mean. The Tesseract was a known relic on Asgard and in the majority of the other realms, one of the five keystones meant to equip and power the Infinity Gauntlet. However, Loki was not yet fully aware of how to use it to its fullest potential. He watched the mortal skitter about the lab with enthusiasm, plugging numbers into machines which emitted either whirring or beeping sounds, sometimes a combination of both.

Loki crossed his arms over his broad chest as he watched, listening to the conversation that passed between the director of SHIELD and the scientist only vaguely. He couldn't get the previous day or that morning out of his head.

Whether she knew it or not, she'd made grand steps toward improving in her own abilities and what he'd considered near-impossible strides with the weapon she'd defied all odds in lifting at all. He'd felt a strange surge of pride when she'd been able to bring it hurtling back at her, but that had gradually descended into intense jealousy. Jealousy which had fueled his escalating aggravation and had only grown throughout his sleepless night until dawn had broken and he'd looked over to see her sound asleep with the passing thought of just how easily he could snap her neck.

She was fragile, near pathetic in her race, and yet she could accomplish that of which he was incapable. It was perfectly nauseating. All the while, he had to go out of his way to contract a power source which would guarantee his advantage the next time he graced Asgard's golden roads while his brother was _given_ a nigh indestructible weapon and the ultimate promise of Odin's throne.

This girl was no different; she'd picked up the hammer on whim alone. She was mortal, she was weak, she'd done nothing to deserve it. It was all but handed to her, a circumstance of universal favoritism whose slighting he knew quite well by this time…

The following string of events was a blur at best. Something iced over inside him while maddening frustration, which had been roiling within his heart for years, burned hot in his chest. When the two clashed, his vision reddened and made his nerves shudder with internal noise. He listened to the rest of the scientist's spiel to his superior without hearing it before leaving the facility and making his way back to the warehouse.

Fury was still clouding his judgment and other inferior emotions when he got to the door and shoved it aside so roughly, one of its hinges was cleanly severed from the wall. Across from it, Cora jumped and, upon seeing her, Loki lost his ability to concentrate on his invisibility, just another thing that she had in near-full form but he could only fake through an illusion.

He snarled and was across the room in three long strides, his already curved hand catching her throat and hauling her up against the wall as he shouted into her face with his eyes ablaze with barely controlled energy, "_What makes you worthy_?!"

Cora's form had wavered out of fear for only a split second and, even as the vein in his temple throbbed and his muscles strained to give a quick flick of his wrist that would end her feeble life, he drew back a little. Mentally, at least.

He had her with her toes barely skimming the floor with the danger of quick or slow, but unforgiving asphyxiation hanging over her head and yet she waited. Mjolnir was tied in its usual spot to her hip, but the knot was intentionally one that could be loosened with a mere tug, yet she'd not reached for it since he'd appeared out of his seithr's cover. Her hands had latched onto his arm instead out of reflex in order to try and gain a bit of leverage in holding her weight.

Loki's eyes narrowed on her as she locked gazes with him, her dark, doe-like eyes piercing his with questions and faint apprehension. He saw that her eyes were, in fact, blue beneath all that darkness, but he didn't pay much mind to that; his focus lay upon the strength in them. Despite the way her pulse jumped and continued to throb rapidly beneath his fingers and how her breath hitched out of more than impeded passage in her larynx, she kept a solid expression of composure and watched him with an irritatingly stable gaze, seeming to wonder only what would happen next.

Even more maddeningly, he was beginning to wonder the same.

Closing his eyes slowly, Loki very gradually eased his grip on her throat, listening as she choked a little on the air she got back and her feet flattened once more against the concrete floor. He lowered his hand to his side and exhaled a measured breath before turning away from her. He heard her footsteps as they dotted hurriedly into an adjoining room, a former office, and strong-armed the door to close herself inside. This slightly irked him, but he couldn't blame her, not really.

Opening his eyes once silence settled in, Loki glanced down his nose toward the hand he'd wrapped around her neck, staring as the azure-tinted ridges of his palm and fingerprints began to fade back into porcelain flesh. His hand rolled closed into a clenched fist.

* * *

It wasn't surprising when she didn't come out for the next hour or longer. Loki wasn't exactly keeping track of the time, but it was a fair estimate. It had only fully occurred to him after the entire ordeal had taken place that she could've hit him with the hammer, punched him in the face again, or done any number of stunts to throw him off, but she hadn't done a thing. She'd stayed still and waited for him to back down. He almost wished that she'd struck back.

Loki sighed quietly as he lay back onto the concrete floor, the coolness of the stone a slight comfort to his equally cool flesh, and gave calming the storm inside him a try, which by now had boiled down to equal parts impatience, remnants of rage, and…guilt. Particularly after he'd remembered what she had said about her former lover. His jaw clenched at the thought and he was so immersed in his thoughts, he didn't hear the door of the office open, nor did he realize Cora had approached until she'd already fulfilled her intent.

He startled as the solid weight of Mjolnir pressed down on his chest plates, simply resting atop him with all its unclaimed mass. "What is the meaning of this?!" he demanded, reflexively attempting to sit up though he knew already it would do no good. "I command you, remove this at once!"

Cora did not remove it and, despite his first assumption that this trickery would be a rather spectacular attempt to escape, she instead sat down next to his arm, her back facing him as she said very simply, "I'm going to tell you a story."

"What are you playing at?! Let me up!"

She ignored him and thought her words over before murmuring, "Once upon a time…"

"By the Nine, stop this!"

"Just listen to me a moment."

Loki frowned at having his own words used upon him, but he paused as he heard something different about her voice. There was a very subtle hoarseness to it that hadn't been there before now. It stilled his tongue and she began again. "Once upon a time, there was…hm, a princess, I guess," she began rather matter-of-factly as she drew her knees up toward her chest. "She lived with her mother and father, the queen and king, in their castle and they were all very happy together."

"You had a castle?" he repeated doubtfully with an arch of his brow.

"No, the princess did. Pay attention." Loki forced down a smirk that persisted on his lips, but said nothing else. "They were happy together for a long time and the run of their kingdom was smooth. Nothing ever really went wrong. At least nothing that couldn't be fixed.

"However, when the princess was nearing her teen years, there was an accident… Their carriage slid on some ice and went down into a ravine. It was enough to kill the king and queen, but the princess was left alive with a fracture in her arm.

"The princess then went to live with the former queen, her grandmother, who took very good care of her for years to come, through the near-entirety of her education; even though the princess had moved out to live on her own, her grandmother would always stop by with food, a check to help with the bills, or some wisdom when the princess was doubting herself.

"Eventually, her grandmother had a stroke, which is like… Like the brain starting to die. Afterward, it was a bit harder for her to speak and she started to become pretty sick… She didn't want me—er, the princess—to fall behind in her studies, so she had the princess help her move in with her son, so he could care for her properly and the princess could continue to go to school.

"After the princess graduated, she visited her grandmother as often as she could. Whenever she wasn't working, she would stop by and made sure she was comfortable and happy. These visits only stopped when the princess had to make the difficult choice between staying with her grandmother and moving across the country for a job; a better job than she'd ever dreamed of getting in her field, especially so soon. After some encouragement from her grandma, she went."

Cora paused and he wondered briefly if she was done until she said, "Things were great for a while until the princess started to realize how different she was and other people started to realize it, too. It wasn't a good-different despite what a very few others thought and it cost her the lifestyle she was building in her new kingdom." She deliberated for a moment before murmuring, "I'll have to finish it another time. I don't know how it ends yet."

"And what was the point of that?" Loki asked.

The woman sitting near him sighed, her shoulders lowering in time with her exhalation. "My point," she murmured, her voice having gradually lost its uncharacteristic unevenness while she told her story, "is that I know what it's like to feel inadequate. To feel powerless or helpless to a situation out of your control."

Loki was very caught off-guard by her sentiments and muttered back, "I am not powerless," though his tone was lacking in its usual confidence.

"Could've fooled me at the moment."

Loki scowled at Mjolnir, which was what he was sure she was teasingly referring to. "We are galaxies apart in difference, woman. Do not make the mistake that you are my equal."

"Our situations, specifically, are very different," she agreed, her head bowing as she looked down at her knees. "I'm gaining power I never knew existed for me and, from what I gather, you feel like you're losing it. What you should be more focused on in this little story is that you still have your family, whether you accept them as such or not. You have time to make amends and to try to make it all work." She bit the inside of her cheek a bit as she admitted, "I'd give anything to have that chance."

Loki's brow knitted subtly as his gaze remained on her back, swallowing down the immediate retort he'd felt rise within him when she'd told him he still had his family. He didn't, but he was willing to admit that her loss was as heart wrenching as his. He would never admit to how he'd been broken by his "father's" words and actions, but he was able to at least half-admit it to himself. It was difficult to ignore.

He pursed his lips and lifted a hand from the chilled concrete floor, reaching an uncharacteristically comforting hand toward her; however, she chose just that moment to smile and shake her head at her own antics, shifting to get to her feet. He halted the outstretch of his arm, his fingers curling back with hesitation and lost opportunity. Loki placed his hand back at his side as she stood and brushed herself off and added softly, "But you and I… We're not as different as you think."

She soon turned to look at him with a slight remnant of her smile, despite it being shaded by leftover melancholy. His vivid green gaze met her midnight blue eyes, which he saw were a bit reddened and raw at the edges, even as she playfully reassured, "And don't worry, I'm not presuming to be Future-King Loki, of Asgard's equal," and leaned down to take Mjolnir off his chest.

When the hammer was lifted, Loki let out an involuntary breath of relief, his eyes falling to Cora's hand, which she'd extended once she had knotted Mjolnir to her hip again. He frowned slightly at her, but just as she started to pull away, he reached his out and clasped hers, his grip nearly engulfing it as he got up. When she let go, his hand was still warm from the touch.

Cora touched her pocket and found she'd left her phone in the old office, and she'd started to go back to retrieve it when she heard very quietly from over her shoulder, "I…" She looked back at him, a little surprised at how unsure he looked as he finished his sentence. "I'm sorry."

She nodded and slowly offered a half-smile. "Thank you."

He nodded back and ran a hand through his hair as he turned toward the door, but before he disappeared under his seithr-fueled illusion again, intending to go collect what information of the Tesseract his rampant mind had not been able to contain that morning, he added softly, "And…just 'Loki' will suffice…"

* * *

Hope everyone is having a lovely, safe holiday season. (: See you next week.


	9. Chapter 8

Fury couldn't say that he was surprised he had another conference call in less than twenty-four hours. He couldn't say he was happy about it either; not even close. He'd been sitting with Coulson in the conference room, going over potential tweaks to the Avengers Initiative setup and chatting about Tony's new self-sustaining "baby," Stark Tower, when the windows had flickered into their screen mode and a ringer started cycling.

He'd hoped it was Alexander, even Sharon would have sufficed. However, when he reluctantly answered the call, the panels were filled with the faces of the World Security Council, including Warren. Director Fury swallowed a more colorful array of words before verbalizing a cleaner copy of what he'd been thinking. "What a surprise. Has something happened?"

A thin-lipped woman with bobbed hair and lipstick that matched the color of her blazer smiled superficially and replied while shuffling some papers, "Not yet. That's what we intend to prevent, Director Fury."

"What Councilwoman Jenner means to say is we have…concerns," Warren supplied, seeming a bit more amiable in this conversation. Then again, he was in his own element again and his backup was present.

"Concerns about what?" Fury asked straightforwardly, sick already of the Council's little conversation games.

"Subject Camo," Jenner answered after a collective moment of hesitation, her English accent thick and her hands folding in front of her on the desk as she leaned forward. He started to argue, but she held up her hand and continued, "It's become apparent that your division and, hm, 'Avengers' are incapable of containing the problem, which…we find to be a problem in and of itself."

Fury resisted the urge to scoff. "There are bigger things happening in the world that you could be—"

"And yet, here we are," another Council member said, glancing up over his glasses with a condescending air. "Clearly, she's a large enough problem that she's slipped through your agents' grasp _twice_ now and our colleague felt it necessary to bring her to our attention. I hear she's different than expected."

"Yeah, she has more power than we knew about at first, but—"

"Therefore, she must be, oh, delicately put… Eliminated," Jenner said lightly as she jotted something down on one of her forms.

"Eliminated?" Coulson repeated, unable to keep out of the conversation now. "Why?"

"Ah, Agent Coulson. It's been a while," the third Council member said in recognition.

"Indeed it has, Dirk, but you all couldn't possibly mean…"

"But we do," Warren said shortly. "The girl is too much of a threat to be allowed to run amok and, clearly, simply containing her has proved too difficult for SHIELD, for _you_, to handle."

"She's just a kid!" Fury bellowed at the screen, shocked at the turn in events.

"And you're just a director," Jenner said silkily, flashing another fake smile. "You have your orders. Get it taken care of or we will take the matter into our own hands. Good day, Director Fury. Agent Coulson." And then the screen flickered back to the night sky.

Silence took over the room until Coulson asked with a frown, "And your orders, sir?"

Fury contemplated his options a moment before sighing and shaking his head. "We're not going to kill her, but we sure as hell have to crack down on efforts. We have a deadline now."

"Problem is, we don't even know what the specific 'deadline' is," Coulson pointed out with a stressed frown.

"We'll just have to work fast and hope it's fast enough."

* * *

The text message came while Cora was having her breakfast, hard-pressed not to throw up from how much she didn't want any more bagels. Despite that, she swallowed the bite she'd taken and dug her phone out of her pocket, her brow lifting as she peered down at the name; it was her uncle.

Bewilderment was soon replaced by dread, which iced over her insides just as she unlocked her screen and opened the message. It read, "Grandma's passed. Funeral at St. Mary's Church on Cog Street. Tomorrow 6pm."

Cora clenched her teeth a little, holding down the emotions that started bubbling up in a gradually growing intensity within her as she read the text again. And again. And again, just trying to absorb it. She lifted her gaze toward the high windows, where a vague patchwork of stars was visible in each pane. _Grandma can't be gone. She's all I had left_, Cora thought to herself, her eyes starting to burn a little.

She locked her phone again just before she heard the door swing lopsidedly open, clanking and skidding a corner against the floor. Loki reentered the warehouse, grimacing at the door before he looked at her, immediately asking in a wary tone, "Have I done something else?"

"What?" she asked and her voice sounded a little strained.

"You're upset," he noted bluntly.

"What makes you say that?"

Loki gave her a chiding glance as he stepped over, crouching down in front of her and lifting a hand toward her face. Angling a fingertip just under her eye, he pulled it away seconds later and showed her a telltale tear that had slipped through her control. Cora glared at it before looking up at him. "I need to go to California."

"We've been through this, you are not leaving this place until I find a better spot and move us there, myself."

"My grandmother just died," Cora argued, desperation to be understood making her angry.

Loki paused and lifted a brow. "How do you know?"

"My uncle sent me a message just a few minutes ago. The funeral is tomorrow and I need to go."

"You're not going."

"How dare you!" she lashed out, her voice choking a little as she continued to hold it all in.

"Sentiment will get you caught. Might even get you killed," he said contemplatively.

"I don't care anymore, all right?" Cora snapped, causing Loki to sigh with frustration. "I—"

"I will not tell you again, woman," Loki murmured with forced calm, one of his hands resting against his jaw. "You. Will stay. Here."

Cora seemed to fish for something to say, but finally gave up, glaring vehemently and looking back down at her phone, ignoring him. Loki sighed and stood up, rubbing his eyes lightly.

When it was made clear that she was well and truly "pissed" at him by the scrunched face she made down at her phone, he gave up and sat back against the wall, exhaustion winning out and encouraging him to get some rest. He closed his eyes and was out in a few minutes' time. Now that he'd collected all the updated information on the Tesseract, he felt it acceptable that he take some time to sleep.

Cora paused in her mindless mashing of her touch screen, glancing up at Loki contemplatively before her eyes skimmed down to Mjolnir. Despite her present melancholy, a faint smirk curved her lips.

_Not going, my ass._

* * *

It was inexplicable how his strange premonition of frustration seemed to catch him upon awakening, but as soon as he saw the empty pile of blankets against the opposite wall, he nearly snarled. "By the Nine, I—" He paused in getting up, figuring he'd immediately go after her before she got too far away; at least until he was immediately jerked backward by an impossible weight on his wrist.

His gaze flashed down to Mjolnir and he seethed, muttering as he tried to tug the multi-layered knot she'd wound the leader cord into, "How did she even manage this without waking me?!"

Loki had tugged three out of the seven knots free when there was a strange little lurch in the hammer's head. He paused, his brow knitting as he wondered whether or not he'd imagined it, which was all the time it took for the hammer to shiver again and then slowly rise up from the floor, the spoke angling toward the concrete wall he'd been sleeping against.

As he understood what was happening, Loki parted his lips to curse, only to have the breath knocked out of him when Mjolnir lurched and shot forward, smashing through the wall and dragging him right along with it. He had the sense to throw his seithr over his form, making himself invisible because he knew who would be watching. And it just wasn't time to reveal himself yet.

"There!" he murmured as he finally loosed the last few knots, the momentum he'd picked up from the hammer causing him to stumble and nearly face-plant into the dry sand. He looked up just in time to watch Mjolnir disappear into the atmosphere, his lips thinning as he gave a swift punch to the ground and went back into the warehouse.

Loki began mulling over all his options, trying to put together any sort of plan that would tell him where she'd gone off to. In retrospect, he should've gotten more information out of her in case she pulled something like this, but he hadn't thought she'd be so stupid. His eyes fell upon a black rectangle near where he'd been sitting, asleep, which he picked up and turned over. It was her phone, probably having fallen out of her pocket as she tied the hammer on his wrist and ran out.

He pressed the button at the center of the lower edge, watching the screen flicker to life and present him with a password-protected lock. Loki paused, thinking back to when he'd glanced over her shoulder during their little training session the other day. After two failed attempts, he remembered the numbers she'd hit and the screen unlocked, presenting him with a multitude of little colored squares.

"FaceTime… Calendar… Camera…," he read aloud, cursing as he accidentally set off the camera app. "Damn, how do I… Ah, right, got it!" Loki grinned and continued to look through the apps, moving past "Videos" to something called Safari. He arched a brow thoughtfully. _Well, it is a compass…_

He tried to use that and typed Cora's name into the Search bar, but the program clearly didn't know what it was doing, so he got out of it and went to the next, which was nicely labeled "Maps." He squinted slightly and murmured, "Search or address… Address, hrm… Messages," a little distractedly as he left the app momentarily and went to see if he could find her messages, remembering she'd mentioned getting one from her uncle. Considering he saw no letters in the area, he assumed it had come through her phone.

Once he found the message, he took note of the gathering place and went back to maps, typing it in a little uncertainly at first, his fingers becoming more nimble as he went. After more shuffling, Loki was victorious and a route was drawn on the screen. He memorized it and smirked triumphantly before muttering, "Nice try, Cora, I'll always find you." With that, he pressed the top button again, which did his will by locking the screen and he left the warehouse, disappearing within his magic once more.

* * *

Loki found it necessary to check the map a couple more times before he ended up where he needed to be, seeing familiar street names and landmarks that had been listed with the route. However, after everything, it took hours for him to get there.

When a sign that read, "Church of St. Mary," came into view along with a pronounced, cross-laden steeple, Loki knew he was on the right track, soon arriving at the street corner and spying a long black vehicle at the curb, a lot filled with cars nearby. The building was contained within a black wrought-iron fence and he was getting a bit nervous that she'd already been snatched up by SHIELD when he saw her leaning against the ebony spires in the shade, her fingers loosely wrapped around the peaks.

Frowning, he waited until he was under the cover of the tree as well before dropping the seithr clinging to his body, following her gaze toward the wide-open doors acting as the mouth of the church. "Satisfied?" he murmured as he got close enough for her to hear him.

"Shut up," she said quietly, her voice lacking in its usual fervor.

Loki smirked faintly before looking down at her; her eyes were red again and a little puffy. "You won't go inside? I thought the whole point of your rendezvous was going to the funeral."

"I'm fine just being out here," she replied, never taking her eyes off the casket past the doors and the minister speaking nearby, the bible he was quoting from spread open in his hand. "Without her, there's not really anyone in there for me."

He leaned against the fence beside her, watching the man inside make sweeping gestures and proclamations of life, health, joy, and the heavens while the audience inside alternated between weeping and smiling wetly. "Funerals are much different in Asgard," he admitted softly as he watched. "Then again, most things are much different in Asgard. By the way, here. You dropped this back at the warehouse."

Loki handed her back her phone and she glanced over for the first time, taking it and unlocking the screen to find the Maps app open and working. Her eyes widened a little and she turned her dark eyes up to his. "You used my phone to get here?"

"Yes, I saw you type your code in once, I wasn't trying to though," he said, waiting for her to get mad at him for "invading her privacy" or something.

"You're fine, I'm just impressed."

Loki was surprised at that and gave an awkward, "Oh." He never understood his reaction to praise from her. Though he never really understood the majority of his reactions to her. He cleared his throat and glanced furtively at her only to note that she was back to looking at the church doors, her hands upon the fence bars, which allowed him to notice something when her jacket sleeve shifted upward… "What is that?"

Cora looked up at him before following his gaze to her right wrist, where one of her tattoos was peeking out. She angled her arm against the fence so her sleeve would continue to move upward, revealing four stick-figure symbols in bold black lines. "It's more of a sentimental thing, I think. This was something I doodled into a lot of my drawings as a kid and then I had a dream about it a few years back, so I got it tattooed on. I think at the time, I kind of connected it to my childhood and—why are you looking at me like that? What did I say?" She became unsure of herself when she returned her eyes to his and he had a look of disbelief on his pearly features.

Loki reached forward and carefully snared her wrist in his slender fingers, turning it over to get a better look, unable to avoid noticing the yellowed bruising on her knuckles. "Nothing, it's… Well, it is your name."

"What do you mean?" Cora asked bewilderedly, looking down at the doodle of connected lines doubtfully.

"It is your name… But these are Asgardian runes," he murmured, skimming the pad of his thumb lightly over her inked skin, his brow creasing as he tried to understand how this was possible.

"I… But how can that be?" Cora asked, just as shocked and confused as he.

"I don't know, but we—"

"Hey, man, nice costume!" Both turned to look at a boy walking by, no older than seventeen. "You from an anime or something?"

"What are you talk—"

"Oh, Loki, your armor!" Cora finally noticed, looking at him and then wondering why no one had seemed to notice until she took in the high school boy's own attire: a tattered gray shirt, holed jeans, mussed hair, and painted blood splatters over his clothes and at his mouth, an off-shade of green smeared over his face. "Oh…," she realized quietly as another little monster ran by. "It's Halloween."

"Halloween?" he repeated, earning a laugh from the boy, who commented on how in-character Loki was before catching up with his friends.

"It's a holiday. Kids dress up in costumes and go around to get candy," Cora said quietly, glancing to the church as everyone inside began to stand up to go say their goodbyes.

Loki followed her gaze and asked measuredly, "…Do you want to go inside?"

Cora pursed her lips and thought on that for a few seconds, soon shaking her head a little. "No… She's not in there anymore."

He watched her start to walk back down the street, her hands in her pockets and her gaze on the ground. Loki took one more look at the building of mourning before following her, attempting to come up with something to say. Despite it being a foolhardy fall of sentiment, she was still in pain.

Once he'd walked by her side a few moments, children rushing up and down the street with parents or older siblings, he lifted his hand and pressed his fingertips against the inside of her wrist, drawing her hand from the pocket of her jeans. Before she could ask what he was doing, he slipped his hand into hers, holding it gently and then turning his gaze ahead again.

Cora's questioning words died on her lips as utter shock set in, her eyes dropping to their hands before she bit her lip and looked away, a flush rising to her face. Her fingers lightly curled around his and she noticed how much colder his skin was than hers, despite the southern Californian heat. She decided it was kind of nice.

* * *

"Agent Barton to base," Clint murmured into his earpiece, watching their targets over the top of Coulson's head. "We've got them."

* * *

In my personal opinion, this is the best chapter I've written yet. That might just be New Year's confidence getting me though. (: I created a visual aid for Cora's tattoo, which is on my Tumblr, "Had things gone differently." EDIT: Because I couldn't find a way to include it in posts or email the links, I've made it the cover for the fanfiction. I don't know why I didn't think of that sooner.

Hope you enjoyed the chapter (and the cliffhanger, ehehehe) and I'll see you all next week!


	10. Chapter 9

"Where's the hammer?"

"Where do you think?"

"Um, not here?"

"Well, you are not wrong…," Loki admitted a little exasperatedly, glancing toward the dusty warehouse ceiling with little interest as he felt Cora step away from his side, which caused her to become entirely visible once more. He'd used his seithr to get them back undetected and still wore it until a moment later when he allowed the magic to drop from his form.

Cora frowned up at him with a bit of an apprehensive expression. "Did it get called back up?" she asked.

Loki flashed back to the hammer blasting through the wall and glanced at the hole he'd been dragged through, which Cora had yet to turn around and notice. "Quite."

She followed his gaze and her eyes widened. "Holy sh—"

"Indeed," he murmured indifferently.

Cora frowned as she pondered the development, remembering the fact that she could wield Mjolnir was the only reason he'd taken her with him in the first place, and was also the only reason he had kept her from SHIELD's grasp. She hesitantly worked up the nerve to ask, "So, now what?"

Loki blinked down at her, as if it hadn't already occurred to him that her usefulness had waned. He was about to say something when his attention was redirected toward the garage door down the aisle, his eyes narrowing at it.

He raised his hand to silently shush Cora—who was on the verge of asking what was wrong—as he walked slowly toward the end of the room, murmuring for her to stay put while he investigated. She stayed where she was, not knowing what had spurred on his little prowl in the first place. It was only when a shadow appeared through the hole in the wall that she realized what might've caught his interest.

"Hello again." Cora jolted in surprise and looked over, seeing the thin-haired, smiling man from weeks prior, Phil Coulson, stepping through the gap with his hands in the pockets of his steel-colored dress pants.

She instinctively started to bolt, but two of the armored agents accompanying him raised their assault rifles, aiming the barrels at her. The lasers flickered red at certain angles from the scopes, their disjointed beams dancing over her heart and head.

She froze and looked to Phil, who appeared apologetic. "We've been put in a tough spot, Cora. If you don't come with us this time, things might turn ugly."

"I guessed that from the guns," she quipped softly, pursing her lips. She felt dazed from the shock of the ambush, not snapping out of it until she was being grabbed by two more agents in black armored SWAT suits, one on each side. Her visibility became a bit unstable for a few seconds and it was only then that she glanced toward Loki, who she saw standing precisely where he'd been moments ago, unmoving.

She would never admit it, but she was hoping beyond hope that he'd help her. For the first time in the longest time and without her permission, she felt vulnerable and hated how her expression crumpled when he remained where he was, his features as indifferent as ever as he watched them drag her off and then disappeared beneath his magic's shield.

The plainest form of what Cora felt was betrayal. It made little sense for her to feel that way, but she'd let herself get in too deep with this would-be king. Her jaw clenched a bit as the agents hauled her out, past Coulson and the archer-agent she'd seen days ago. She hid the weird myriad of things she was feeling rather well as someone tucked her head under the doorframe of a Humvee outside, the blistering heat managing to make its way inside the military vehicle despite the blasts of air conditioning from the front.

Cora watched reservedly as the agents filed into the back with her, the bowman finally introducing himself. "Agent Clint Barton," he said brusquely without much explanation except a look of approval from Phil. When she arched a brow at them, Clint elaborated, "Agent Coulson thought it was rude that I didn't introduce myself last time."

"I said it wasn't exactly helpful," Phil corrected kindly. "Familiarization and all that—"

"What do you want from me?" Cora gritted, her arms crossed tightly over her chest.

Phil sighed, his smile faltering a little. "To help. That's what we've been trying to explain to you all along. It's just become more…crucial that we talk things out now."

"Why?" she asked warily. "What's going on?"

"I'll explain everything when we get to headquarters."

"No way, you can't pull that kind of ambiguity on me and then say we'll talk about it later," she snapped before frowning and backing down a little. "At least a hint?"

"It's a matter of life and death," Clint said bluntly.

Cora's brow furrowed. "Mine?"

"Yes," Phil relinquished with an apologetic frown.

"Well… Fuck," Cora muttered.

* * *

The Humvee rolled to a stop several hours later, cuing Phil and Clint to get up from their seats. Phil got out first, followed by Cora, and then Clint, then the other two agents who had been riding along in the back with them. She glanced around the underground garage briefly as she followed the SHIELD agents, the lot of them making a bit of a ring around her. Did they really think she intended to strike up a fight? She wouldn't stand a chance. The only true defense she might've had to her name had already bailed on her in seconds flat.

Logically, she shouldn't have been surprised. He was from another world, endeavoring to gain a throne on said world, was openly intending to use her for her talents from the get-go, and had not once referred to her by name. All signs pointed to extreme ostracism of her while the rest simply didn't make sense now, apart from perhaps it all being a ploy to earn her favor and trust. That was what the emotional side of her was holding onto. She'd honestly thought they were getting somewhere; as allies at the very least.

_Wrong_, she thought simply with a frown. It bothered her more than she would've liked, but he wasn't her concern anymore. She was the one who was in danger. A lab rat at last.

The pair led her into what looked to be a conference room made mostly of glass and black leather, giving it a very modern look. She noticed that the backup agents had left their company, narrowing it down to just the three of them apart from the man already in the room, looking out the enormous glass windows.

Before he even turned around, she knew who he was, recognized him from a few news stories and public announcements she'd seen around the time of the New Mexico incident. Tall, sturdily built, wearing a long black trench coat, with an eyepatch over his left eye: Director of SHIELD, Nick Fury.

He nodded to her, glancing toward the window panes warily before walking toward the long conference table and pressing a button before he sat down, which caused shaded panels to slowly descend over the window. "Too sunny for you, sir?" Coulson smiled, seeming to take a jab at Fury's dark demeanor as he pulled Cora's chair out for her and then sat down, himself, Clint doing the same.

"I'm not so much worried about the view as I am about _being_ viewed," he replied informatively, his voice deep and matter-of-fact.

Phil and Clint seemed to understand, but Cora was left as the odd one out, which she didn't take well to under normal circumstances. "Viewed by who? No one could possibly—"

"These windows double as communication screens, Miss Dempsey," he explained and while he did give her an answer, she didn't appreciate the interruption. "It wouldn't be the first time the system was overrode and we were put on surveillance."

"Then again, Stark did that as a power play to get up our asses," Clint admitted with a very subtle smirk on his usually stoic features. "Not sure even the higher-ups know how to do that."

Fury's attention was still on Cora. "You know why you're here by now, I assume?" he asked directly.

"Because I'm a freak," Cora murmured with a biting tone. Phil frowned at her words, but she didn't divert her dark gaze from Fury.

"Because our superiors see you as a threat, actually," Fury corrected her calmly, leaning forward a little in his chair. "Before it was because we wanted you in our ranks, but that ship has sailed."

"I'm _so_ torn up about it," she retorted bravely and there was a heavy pause before Fury actually cracked a smile, Phil and Clint soon to follow.

"I can tell," Fury volleyed back before saying with his businesslike tone restored, "First thing's first, your grandmother is just fine. Still at your uncle—"

"_What_?" Cora blurted out, her eyes wide with shock. "What do you mean, he told me she—"

"That was an effort to bring you out of hiding. It was easy to hack his phone and send you a message about a funeral that was happening that day. We would've intervened immediately had you gone in and discovered the truth, but you didn't, which gave us more time to ease into this."

"Well, glad I could be a fucking help," she muttered very fast and very sarcastically before demanding, "Do you realize what you put me through? Are you all even human?!"

"We did," Phil sighed, looking over at her. "It was a last resort and we were getting desperate."

"Why were you getting desperate, it's not like I was doing anything horrible or even illegal!"

"Because there is a death warrant on your head," Fury said pointedly, which caused her to stop and listen. "I'm supposed to have eliminated you already, but we're instead trying to come up with a compromise that won't bring the World Security Council down on all our heads."

"World Sec—why are they involved? I flashed out of sight at a park and a subway station, there are people in those parts who flash in other much more traumatizing manners, shouldn't that be more of a concern?"

"It wasn't the disappearing act you pulled, it was the thing with the hammer. It scared them and now they don't want to deal with someone apart from the Asgardian god we already have as our ally being able to use an invincible weapon. Who was the man you were seen with at the church?"

"Old friend from the area who stopped by to comfort me about a lie you used just to put me in a position that would get me killed," she lied reflexively, doing so seamlessly.

"If we hadn't resorted to that, you'd already be dead," Clint said firmly, bringing an end to the debate. It did the job because Cora backed down, raking a hand through her hair and consequentially pulling out her hair tie, just putting it on her wrist instead as she shook her head slowly. "What?"

"This is just…insane," she said and her voice sounded tired now, sapped of her usual ferocity.

"It is," Phil agreed thoughtfully. "But we're working to fix it. Just, please, cooperate. For all our sakes."

Cora glanced at him and smirked though the expression was weak. "Me being here is me cooperating. Where else would I go?"

"Good," Director Fury declared with finality as he stood up, Phil and Clint following suit. "Agent Barton, would you escort Miss Dempsey to where she will be staying until we reach a final plan of action? Agent Coulson, I'd like to speak to you privately."

"Yes, sir," both agents said at once. Cora stood up and walked out of the conference room with Clint, glancing briefly over her shoulder just before the door shut behind her.

Phil turned to Fury questioningly as the director stared down at the call box on the table. "Sir?"

Fury frowned a little as he turned to look at Phil. "You've done some extensive research on the crash of the _Valkyrie_. Correct?" he asked slowly, knowing he was going out on a limb with this backup plan if the World Security Council didn't sway the way he wanted them to on Cora's "sentence."

"Silly question," Phil noted, considering the tie the superbomber had to his childhood idol, Captain America. "Yes, I have, mostly on whim. The field agents and biochemists on Level 5 mostly dealt with all that after it was discovered in the Arctic. But… Why do you ask?"

"Because our options are few and far between," Fury admitted, looking weary. She wasn't the only "issue" he was dealing with at present; the world had been turning gradually more volatile as of late, with news of extraterrestrials and the like spreading through the proverbial grapevines.

"I don't understand."

Fury was prepared to elaborate when the communication pad began to beep in low tones, the windows glassing over with loading icons. Taking a deep breath and glancing toward Phil, Fury raised the shades and answered the call.

* * *

Cora stood under the hot cascade of the shower, fiercely scrubbing product into her hair with reckless abandon. As soon as Clint had pointed out the adjoining bathroom to her small living quarters, her mood had been lifted, if only a smidgen. Her only regret was not finger-combing through her locks before rubbing in the shampoo; it was a disastrous mess of tangles now, but she still couldn't care less. She was clean, dammit.

She smirked a little at the joy she found in the simple indulgence, the expression fading slowly when she raised her hand to run through her hair as she rinsed out the suds, and the bold tattoo on her wrist caught her eye. An unanswered question; inked into her skin and embedded into her mind. It was her name, Loki had said, but how had she known how to write it? None of it made sense. Another thing that didn't make much sense was why she'd protected Loki when he'd not lifted a single finger to aid her.

Cora soon shut off the water and pulled the dark blue towel she'd been supplied with from over the chrome doorframe. Wrapping it around herself, she pressed against the door until it popped open and stepped out, shutting the steamy glass panel behind her. It was amazing how much of a difference a shower could make in her attitude.

On the edge of the simple full-sized bed near the center of the opposite wall was a folded set of clothes, given that hers had been on her back for a few days now. Cora picked them up curiously and arched a brow down at them, finding that it was a femininely tailored SHIELD uniform. With a small huff at the irony, she dropped her towel and put it all on, boots included. Glancing at herself in the reflection off the window as she dried her hair off, she smirked faintly at the sight. Phil would be proud; she wore it well.

That was confirmed when Agent Barton came back to get her to escort her to the conference room, seeing as Fury had gotten an answer apparently much faster than anyone had expected. She'd opened the door after Clint had knocked and the sniper-archer had greeted her with a brow-raise of approval. "Suits you."

"Thanks," she murmured as they began their trek down the hallway, soon arriving outside the door.

They walked in and Phil smiled at her, commenting, "It's really too bad we couldn't figure something out sooner. You look kickass in uniform."

The man actually caused her to genuinely smile, which dimmed a bit when she saw Fury's look of forced composure. "Well, go on," she murmured reluctantly, the suspense putting her more on edge than knowing the actual outcome would. Or so she thought.

Fury cleared his throat and murmured, "They're not letting up on the warrant. They still believe you are too dangerous to be 'running loose.' To be kept alive."

"So, are you going to do it or is Robin Hood over here going to do the honors?" Cora snapped quietly before frowning and murmuring an apology to Clint for her undeserved slam, who just shook his head and put a sympathetic hand on her shoulder. When she turned her gaze back to Fury, he looked conflicted. "There's more, right?"

"There's another option. The one we're going to engage."

"Which would be…?" Cora encouraged, starting to hope a little.

Fury clenched his jaw a little before asking, "Do you know much about Steve Rogers? About Captain America?"

"I mean… I met him outside Clarkdale a few days ago… Apart from that and the bits of World War II propaganda I've seen him on, not really."

"Well, most of it has been kept fairly confidential since Red Skull made an attempt at terrorism and succeeded in taking the lives of so many beforehand, using the Tesseract…"

"What's that?"

"It's basically a cube of raw energy," Phil supplied calmly, though for the first time she noticed that the worry lines on his face were more prominent than usual.

Fury placed his hands behind his back and paced toward the head of the table, continuing, "To stop Red Skull's superbomber craft—the _Valkyrie_—from carrying out its purpose, Steve crashed it into the Arctic. He and the ship were entirely encapsulated in ice. He was only rediscovered seventy years when we went to recover the ship, the Tesseract, thanks to Stark, and, by total surprise, Steve Rogers, as well. Alive."

"And what you're saying is…what, exactly?" she asked with a bit of an impatient gesture, though she already had a feeling where this was going, angry little butterfly-like sensations teeming in her stomach.

"The World Security Council won't tolerate your freedom. They've found something they can control in this new era of non-control and they seem desperate for some power. They want you dead. However, we ended up coming to a compromise: we're going to put you in a deep freeze until this misunderstanding is cleared up."

"I'd rather you blow my head off right here," Cora noted, her stomach turning over at the thought of being slowly frozen solid with just a sliver of hope that she might walk free again, fully aware of what was happening but unable to do a thing about it.

"These are our only options, they wouldn't allow for anything else," Fury argued defensively.

"They're never _going _to allow for anything else. Like you said, they're desperate and power-mongering. They see this as a guiltless end to their problem and maybe you do, too."

"Cora, please," Phil frowned at her with faint disapproval, looking a little older with the smile gone from his face. "We just want to help. We're _trying _to help."

"I know, but…," she struggled, running a shaking hand through her hair. "Could… Is there any way to, um… Put me under before…?"

Fury shook his head. "Any kind of sedative will lower your heart rate and will make it more difficult for you to stay alive in there. The temperature would make it very hard for it to come back up."

Cora's throat tightened and it felt like she was having an episode of claustrophobia, not remembering having such an anxiety-fueled reaction since the car crash that killed her parents. "How do you know I'll survive it? Steve, he's… He's different right? Better."

"He's a supersoldier. His body was genetically engineered to be superior in strength, agility, endurance, and stamina," Fury explained with a nod. "But from what we've seen, you're 'better,' too."

Cora's eyes widened marginally and she asked quietly, "Do… Do you know what's wrong with me?"

"There's nothing wrong with you as far as I can tell. You're just different. Special."

She wasn't sure she believed that, but she let it slide. "So… When is this thing happening?"

"They gave us a deadline of tomorrow, ten-hundred hours." The SHIELD director paused heavily and, when no one could find anything else to say, he advised, "Go get some rest. Dinner can be sent to your room and if you need anything else, just say the word. And Cora?" She looked over her shoulder at him. "It's going to be fine."

Whether or not he was just saying that to make her feel better, she gave a slightly forced smile of thanks and headed out into the hall, the conference room door sliding shut in her wake.

* * *

Sorry for the late-night posting on this one, it was a difficult one to crank out. We're edging toward the Battle of New York... See you all again next week!


	11. Chapter 10

_With a slip of the hand and a fumble of fingers, coupled with the merciless force of gravity, her alarm clock fell victim to the wrath of the hardwood floor before it ever had a chance to ring. Cora opened one eye and grumbled at the bits of clock on her floor before pushing herself upright, having to glance at her phone to see what time it was. She had to get ready for work. _

_She went through the motions of a shower, putting together something to wear, forcing herself to eat something when she didn't want anything she had in the kitchen, and making sure her purse and work bag were packed. Still though, she felt like she was forgetting something. A breath of cold air maneuvered through her window, bringing with it a few magenta petals from a flowering redbud tree nearby. She walked over and shut the window calmly, figuring her roommate, Lacey, had left it open and then headed over to her boyfriend's._

_Cora picked up her stuff and headed out, glancing around the vacant apartment before shutting the door behind her and walking down the stairs. She paused on the second floor stairwell, craning her head back to look up at a black symbol high on the wall, fashioned with spray paint. It was a long, straight line with an adjoining triangle at the center, the apex facing eastward from the line. "How did anyone even get up there…," she wondered aloud before shaking her head and continuing down the last two flights of stairs. _

_The sidewalk was _packed _by the time she reached the lobby doors and she uttered a growl as she maneuvered her way into the flow of traffic, getting bumped and shoved around by other pedestrians who didn't seem to realize she existed. She finally broke apart from the jumble and went down the next block, pausing as she noticed snowflakes descending. It was May… Why was it snowing? _

_An icy wind buffeted against her as a sudden flurry swept in, causing her to shudder and quake with discomfort. "N-No, I have to—" She ducked against another blast of wind, starting to trek forward through the continuously building snow, which was now up around her ankles. "I can't get caught in this, I… Where am I?" _

_Cora had just looked up and the city around her was no longer New York. In fact, it wasn't even a city. It was a frozen wasteland. Sheer, jagged spires plunged from the icy earth, snow as far as the eye could see and it was positively freezing… Her gaze scaled up the highest rock spire, catching on a symbol carved near the peak; the very same as the one in the stairwell…_

_"You do not belong here," a voice said and she turned to see a man with blue skin and red eyes glaring at her from afar, though something was familiar about him. "Return to your home." _

_"Where is home?" she asked, her question a cry as she tried to be heard above the fierce winds whipping at her from all sides. "I don't know how I got here! Who are you?"_

_"Leave now, woman!" he ordered and she recognized him that time, her eyes widening in disbelief. Before she could say his name, she convulsed from the cold and fell to her knees in the snow, buried in a matter of seconds._

* * *

Bolting upright from her stiffly made bed, Cora panted violently, her eyes flickering wildly about the tiny room before she made herself calm down, falling back against the bed again as she put her hands over her face, blocking herself into her own mind until she was able to tell herself everything was all right.

However, everything was _not _all right. Her subconscious knew that as well as the rest of her.

Cora glanced toward the clock on the bedside table, which read eight. Two hours until she was little more than a block of ice in storage. She tried to make a joke of it to will away the anxiety she'd all but woken up with, but it was getting more and more difficult to tame. The time was drawing nearer and she felt more crazy than ever that she was preparing to willingly allow the government to essentially end her life. Just because the World Security Council wanted to feel "in control."

"Good morning, Miss Dempsey," came a female voice over the intercom, causing Cora to frown and glance around for cameras in the room.

"Um… Good morning," she murmured. "How did you—?"

"Your pulse jumped," the woman—assumably a secretary—informed her pleasantly.

Cora squinted at the intercom box before turning to glance at her pillow and then muttering, "I don't even want to know."

"Is there anything we can get for you?"

_Yeah, a waived death sentence_, Cora thought sarcastically. This hotel-like service was pretty sick. Thanks for cooperating with your own frosty imprisonment, would you like fries with that? The thought actually made her hungry. _Good thing my priorities are still spot-on as always_… "Maybe some breakfast?"

Cora started to shift the covers off herself before pausing as her eyes caught on a red patch decorating her forearm, her brow creasing as she drew back the sleeve of her nightshirt to reveal light scratch marks in the shape of the symbol she'd seen briefly in her dream. Unnerved, she checked under her fingernails, surely enough finding small remnants of her own skin there as the woman replied, "Of course. Anything else at this time?"

"Yeah," Cora murmured distractedly, skimming her fingertips over the fading red lines. "Someone handy with a tattoo iron."

* * *

"Of all things before it happens," Fury murmured as he wired the machine, testing the pedal lightly to be sure it was still in working order, "another tattoo?"

"Well, I already talked to Phil for a bit, so this is what's left. Besides, I probably won't get another chance to add on, will I," Cora murmured as she listened to him snap the latex rims of the hospital-blue gloves he was pulling over his hands. "Besides, being covered up and cool is good for a new tattoo… Looks like it'll have all kinds of time to heal up."

"Wondered what took you so long. Why this though?" he murmured, looking at the sketch she'd done on a Post-It. "It's just a line with a triangle on it."

"Wait, you seriously don't know what that is?" Cora asked incredulously, making Fury pause and reconsider it before she admitted, "Quit staring at it, I don't know what it is either. I just have a very finite time left to be a smart-ass."

Fury smirked lightly as he tore open the package containing the needle and secured it to the gun. "Point taken. Why are you getting a tattoo of it when you don't even know what it means?"

"Because it's important," Cora murmured, watching him attach the ink casing. "I dreamt about it last night. I know, it sounds nuts, but I'm trusting my intuition."

"I didn't say a word," Fury said, forcing down a smirk. "Here?" he confirmed, taking her right hand and indicating the side of her ring finger. When she nodded, he leaned forward a bit and engaged the petal, beginning to work as he put the needle to her skin. Cora winced a bit at the bite of the iron, soon getting to a point where she'd grown used to the pain and was able to ignore it for the most part. He'd finished in a timely fashion, drawing back and suggesting, "Take a look at it. Bolder or is that good enough?"

Cora raised her hand and glanced down at the fresh ink, nodding in approval. "Looks good, thanks." Fury nodded, wiped off the excess ink, and then turned off the machine, disposing of the needle and putting the equipment back in its cases. Just as he'd shut the final case and pulled off the gloves, a familiar figure appeared in Cora's peripheral.

She looked up to see Steve Rogers walking in, offering her a smile when their eyes met though his expression was one of slightly forced optimism. "Getting a tattoo?" he asked which a chuckle, a bit surprised at how she was spending her last hour.

"_Got _a tattoo," Fury corrected as he shook Steve's hand and then left the room. "I'll be back."

Steve nodded and sat down in the chair Fury had been using. He seemed to shift a little uncertainly under Cora's unwavering stare, finally murmuring, "So, how did—"

"They call you?" Cora interrupted quietly.

He hesitated, caught off-guard. "What?" he seemed to stumble over his words to find that small, bewildered response.

"To pep talk me for dying, did they call you?" she elaborated with false calm.

"No, I… Well, I asked what the verdict was and when Director Fury told me, I chose to come here. Myself."

"Why?"

"Because no one really understands what you're about to go through," he said seriously. "Not even you." Cora's jaw clenched noticeably as he continued, leaning forward, "I've been submerged in freezing waters and am only alive now because I froze before I drowned. I didn't have more than a minute to comprehend what I was moving toward, I just knew I was going to die, all in order to save tens of thousands of people. But that minute felt like hours, it felt longer than the entire span of time I'd been alive—"

"Stop it," Cora murmured, her teeth gritting from the tension in her jaw.

"No, Cora, you need to hear what I'm going to say," he persisted evenly. "I didn't know what to expect, how it would feel, I didn't know if I'd see a light or God or both at the same time, I just knew I had a date that I would never make—"

"You had a—"

"But the difference was in another voice, hearing it—"

"Steve, please don't get preachy on me now, I'm not—"

"I'm not talking about anything like that," Steve said a little more loudly. "I'm talking about Peggy Carter."

Cora frowned, drawing up short at that and vaguely realizing her fingers had curled up into fists. Her anger wasn't at him, she knew that much; it was the injustice of this. Of both their downfalls. "Peggy Carter?"

"Peggy Carter," he repeated, a tinge of sadness in his otherwise patient gaze. "I'd call her a doll and mean it in the most complimentary way, but that wouldn't do her half the justice she deserves."

"Was she your girlfriend?"

Steve smiled faintly, seeming distant. "Not officially. I did get a kiss though."

Cora laughed. "Look at you. You're blushing."

"I love her," he chuckled embarrassedly, as if it were that simple. "I may have only half-realized it at the time, when it mattered more, but it's true."

"It's been a long time," she commented.

He smiled wistfully. "Not really. It doesn't feel like a long time. It was like being asleep," he said quietly. "There was that weird emptiness of being unconscious, waking knowing you had lost some time, but knowing only the moments just before your eyes shut and then the ones ticking away after you open them again. I lost seventy years in there. Seventy years, but here I am."

Cora's features contorted slightly as she looked down at her hands, swallowing hard. "Did you dream?"

"Only when I was starting to resurface. Weirdest dream I ever had."

She felt moisture fall from her eyes the next time she blinked, her voice hoarse as she asked, "Why did you tell me about her? About Peggy?"

"Because she's what I remember. I remember feeling sure about what I was doing and I remember feeling afraid, but more than anything, I remember her telling me she'd teach me how to dance. Next Saturday at the Stork Club, eight o'clock," he said, nostalgia an undertone in his voice. "She was there for me. And I'm going to be there for you."

"Just so you know, I can't dance either," she murmured, hiccuping softly as she wiped tears from her face.

He laughed, smiling that golden-boy smile at her. "Glad I'm not the only one." Steve pursed his lips as he looked at her before standing up, holding a hand out to her. She glanced up at him, her eyes red and sore from crying, and let him help her up, not surprised when he pulled her into a firm hug. Cora returned the gesture, shaking with anxiety and fear and the sobs that had been well under control until this moment.

When she pulled herself together a little, she took a small step back, the shift in location bringing the doorway back into her vantage point, where Fury stood silently, the lines in his face aging him under the fluorescent lights. "It's time," he told them quietly.

* * *

"It's not really your color, you know."

Clint gave her a disapproving glance as he handed her purse—which had been pilfered from the warehouse along with her—to one of the nearby lab technicians, who set it in one of the drawers adorning the side of her capsule, which she could only see as a casket.

"Anything to add in here?" the technician asked her and she wanted to punch him just to see if there was any humanity in him. He was looking at her through his beady little eyes like a project. Despite that, Cora pulled her phone out of her pocket and stepped forward to place it inside her bag. He then pushed the drawer closed and there was a mechanical sigh from the body of the capsule as it locked into place. She got a first look inside the tube in that moment as well; it wasn't even turned on yet and it looked cold.

"You sure you can't put me under?" she asked quietly as Fury stepped up beside her to look down at the machine, his expression a bit grim.

"Sorry, kid," he murmured sympathetically, glancing over as Steve joined them. "That doesn't begin to cover it, but I'm truly, sincerely sorry."

"It's not you," Cora murmured, her throat tight. "Any of you." Her eyes darted toward the mousy technician with muted spite. "Except maybe you."

Fury gave a halfhearted smile as he nodded for the lab tech to start the final preparations, walking over to supervise, needing to feel like he was helping in some way at the moment.

"The last ten seconds is the worst," Steve told her honestly. "You won't be alone, but you'll feel alone. You have to be your own hero during that time."

Cora couldn't take her eyes off the capsule. "That is without doubt the cheesiest thing I've ever heard," she teased him quietly, her heart not in it to give it ample bite.

He smiled slightly and looked down at her. "I mean it though. Cora?" He waited until she looked up at him. "You're going to be okay. You can do this."

The lab tech pulled the release on the capsule lid, a fog of cold air softly sweeping through the crack as it parted from the rest of the machine. She could feel the chill raise bumps on her skin from where she stood. Her mouth felt dry as she looked to Fury and he gave a faint nod toward the opening.

Taking a deep breath, Cora stepped closer to the capsule, pausing as she looked to him again and asked, "So, I get the anesthesia not being an option, but what about a blunt weapon to the head?"

"You'd hit me right back, even if you asked for it," Fury smirked and Cora couldn't exactly disagree.

She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the chill seeping from the interior of the capsule as she climbed into it, her heart raging against her ribcage and every survival instinct which existed within her screaming for her to stop. Cora sat inside the capsule a moment, trying to focus on the small things, the certain things: her ring finger throbbed with newly injected ink and there was a rhythm to it almost like a waltz. She was going to lie down and be put into a state of deep freeze, likely to never wake up again. Director Nick Fury was there, Steve Rogers was there, Clint Barton was there until just a moment ago, and the lab tech monitoring their progress was there. She could be woken up any time between tomorrow and never. She was terrified. And she was going to do this anyway.

"Make something up," she stammered quickly, her teeth chattering. Fury started to ask what she meant when she looked at him, shivering as she said, "Make something up to tell my grandmother. That I was moved to someplace high on security in London or Tibet or someplace she'd never be able to go. Tell her I'm getting help, that I'm happy. That I'm safe, that I love her. Will you do that for me?"

His brow creased as he nodded and watched the trembling girl, braver than a good number of soldiers he'd dealt with in his years and years of work, lie back into the capsule, the best soldier he'd ever known leaning in toward the lid so she could still hear him inside as he told her to breathe and close her eyes, to go somewhere else in her mind.

Once again, she calculated what was certain as the temperature began to plummet: for one thing, it was cold as hell. For another, she'd been using that expression for a long time, whenever winter came to New York or the temperature dropped below sixty in California, and it made absolutely zero sense. Next, she could hear and feel her body panicking. Her blood rushed through her veins, making her twitch with discomfort, her heart pounded into her breastbone, her pulse alarmingly loud in her ears. She felt nauseous and when the convulsions hit, she could only think that she'd be damned if the last thing she did in this life was vomit.

She knew when those final ten seconds set in. Incoherent, but she could feel them start to tick away.

_Ten_.

She was being put down for being different.

_Nine_.

The probability of her being revived was slim to none.

_Eight_.

She'd never see her grandmother again.

_Seven_.

Her grandmother would never know what had really happened to her.

_Six_.

She was so grateful for that.

_Five_.

She hoped Loki found his place, wherever it was.

_Four_.

She hoped Steve learned how to dance.

_Three_.

She didn't want to die.

_Two_.

But, if she was lucky, she might see her parents again.

_One_.

* * *

Fury glanced away from the capsule, the glass now frosted over entirely, and put a hand on Steve's shoulder. "Come on. It's over," he said wearily as he guided the equally sullen man out of the lab.

* * *

The craggy rocks scattered through the desolate area seemed to crawl as plated beings slithered in their ranks, peering out at their leader consulting the stranger who had come to their home, a bargain in mind.

"You come here presuming to secure an army," the most ancient and intelligent of the Chitauri creatures mused as he stalked a consistent radius around the caped Jotun at the center of the clearing, "yet I fail to hear in your proposal what is our benefit from this venture."

Loki's eyes shifted over the lurking beings nearby as he replied, "Midgard. My rule is yours as well. You seek power, elder…" He turned to face their leader, a smirk crossing his lips. "I can help you get it."

"The Tesseract…," the elder groaned, its voice rasping and hungry. "You, our puppet, will use it to allow us entrance. Do you understand?"

"I am no being's puppet," he said darkly, his gaze shooting around warily as the leader laughed.

"You come into our dark, unforgiving lands without aid, without a soul knowing you are here. Without a soul knowing you still live. Jotun swine wearing the skin of an Asgardian prince, you will receive the aid of my kin as a disciple, _not_ as a commander. This is your only choice."

Loki glanced around him as he heard the creatures around him begin to laugh, chorusing higher and higher, even as he attempted to hold them off with short blasts of power which stemmed from his palms to no avail. He disappeared within he writhing mass of Chitauri monsters, his first desperate shout of regret and pain enough to split the sky, yet reached no further than those who drew it forth again and again.


	12. Chapter 12

Just so there's no confusion, around six months have passed since Cora was put into deep freeze. She was frozen on November 1, 2010 and the Battle of New York takes place May 4, 2011.

This chapter was probably the most difficult one I've had to write so far, but worth it just like all the rest. Trying to encapsulate The Avengers from Loki's viewpoint while not going through the entire movie was a little exhausting, but I hope I did well at blending canon with my own dialogue and takes on what happened. Hope you enjoy.

* * *

Loki stood silently by as the Chitauri leader he'd come to know as the Other addressed the dark figure upon his throne, his body bent in a submissive bow as he spoke. "The Tesseract has awakened. It is on a little world. A human world. They would wield its power, but our ally knows its workings as they never will…," he said, his voice gravelly and barely concealing a dark, deadly hunger in its undertones.

The Other turned and placed a golden scepter crowned with a blue spherical gem and silver blades like teeth in Loki's hands, and he barely contained a shudder as the raw, writhing figments of Chitauri magic slid beneath his skin just as they had before, time and time again, then presenting pain instead of power and seeking out the repressed weaknesses and emotional casualties which lay within him. Exploiting them. Reopening the scars and blistering the vulnerable flesh beneath until they festered, rotted, stemming with sickness into his bloodstream until disease circulated back to his mind, where madness had already eagerly begun to brew.

The Chitauri writhed in masses all around them, the earth quaking from their frenzied shifting. "He is ready to lead," the Other continued, ignoring the prince's muted discomfort though Loki knew he could sense it. He had to be attuned after all this time. It hadn't been long; the blink of an eye for someone like them. Yet every moment had been agony, force, punishment, and borderline despair for the Jotun amongst true monsters the likes of which he was sure Asgard had never experienced. Otherwise, tales of Frost Giants would have never seemed so frightening in comparison. "And our force, our Chitauri, will follow."

The Other flourished a respectful hand toward the figure—Thanos, one of the last Eternals of Titan—upon the throne as he said with as much charm as his reptilian voice could muster, "The world will be his. The universe, yours. And the humans… What can they do but burn?"

Thanos remained pensively silent for a moment before a smirk crooked his lips and he murmured simply, "Then let us begin." Feral cries of anticipation rang out all around as the Chitauri retreated from the throne once the signal was given, Loki keeping step as to not get swept up in their scaly ranks. As they continued onward, he began to lag a bit, glancing down at the scepter in his hands just as the Other came near. It was all Loki could do to not reflexively defend himself or even, shamefully, shrink away.

"You lack enthusiasm for your day of glory," he observed, though he severely lacked any of the concern he may have been trying to falsely imply. It was mockery and it made the former king bristle with injured pride. The Other's voice became stone-cold in a way familiar now to Loki as he said, "You will not have second thoughts."

Loki nodded once, wired and on edge from the sickening power pulsating from the scepter, feeling like hundreds of insects shuffling through his bones. He drew a shuddering breath as he tried to ignore the sensation, the Other watching him with entertainment taken from the Jotun's reaction to the Chitauri's magic. The frost giant's pain was his pleasure and there had been many a tortured soul before him to hold the hooded creature's attention. "I will not," Loki said woodenly. "Why should I?"

"Because you are not getting what you desire from this," the Other answered easily, moving forward slightly while Loki stayed still. "You gain a throne, but not the right one, no… Why would a reign over Midgard satisfy you?"

"I am destined to be a king," Loki gritted quietly.

"But not over men," the Other said, having pulled the exact words from Loki's passing thoughts. Loki glanced down at the scepter in his hands, cursing it and wanting to drop it, but knowing it would prove only to anger the being nearby and plant suspicion where there need be none. Flashbacks of the pain, the forture, lanced through his disheveled mind and put him back in check. The Other turned, circling Loki as he spoke. "You do not care for a Midgardian throne. Admit it now," he instructed calmly.

Loki hesitated before murmuring back, "I do not care for a Midgardian throne."

"Yet you will take one because your desires are outlandishly impossible and do not mesh with our true leader's will," he snapped. "You should be grateful you will reap this much from your small part in this scheme. Your sole two wishes are follies, weak ploys of a boy long dead by my merciful hands."

Loki frowned faintly after quickly dispelling the Other's last statement from his head. "Two wishes?"

"Of course. Young Loki, you do not know your own mind, do you?" he mocked and elaborated, "Yes… Two. One much stronger and more vital to your sanity than the other. We both know what I speak of."

"Vengeance," Loki said in a hard voice when the Other gestured for him to speak it. "My rightful place as king of Asgard. Yet, apart from that… I cannot think of another whim I may have."

"Oh, but there is another… One more pathetic than your desperate climb toward a throne you lost."

The Other waited, letting the unknown hover in the air between them until Loki gave an impatient, "Enlighten me."

The cloaked creature smirked under the shadow of his hood as he continued to step slowly around Loki. "This was never about control of Midgard and it has not been about the Tesseract for a while now. It is your bargaining chip… What care do you have for a throne over mortals? They will expire beneath your boot heels, they will clamber for your approval, but for what? They are easy, they are _vermin_. You want power—_desperately_—and yet there's something else as well." The Other smirked maliciously, finally bringing an end to his extensive teasing. "I have been inside your head, Loki Laufeyson, over and over again… And you would bring the entirety of Midgard to ruin just to see her again."

Loki's gaze flashed toward the Other, his eyes narrowed. "Think you I hold feelings for a mortal woman?"

"She is alive, you know."

His jaw clenched, dropping the façade of disbelief as it was of no use; the Other spoke the truth of invading his mind. He recalled it clearly and with disgust. "You jest."

"If you say so," the Other murmured with a flippant shrug.

"How would you know if she lives?"

"Your hold on the human scientist's consciousness branches to me as well, given my hold over a portion of yours," he explained silkily, ignoring the way Loki's eye twitched at that. "I dug deeper than you did. You are careless. And you are weak."

The Other shifted over and began to walk away, giving Loki little choice but to follow, preparing to channel the Tesseract and carry out his purpose as he pondered what the Other had told him, wondering idly what had become of the little woman he'd aggravated and been aggravated by in those few days they were cooped up in a warehouse together. He'd hung onto those few days and days from his childhood through the misery of this nightly void, drawing some comfort from them when his sanity clung by bare threads.

The fact that he'd become so involved with concern and interest over the girl both angered and baffled him. Worldly attachments were not options to him now and he'd learned from the Asgardians he'd called his family until that dream was ripped from his clinging fingers that love wounded. It was a path to destruction and it was a lie. Loki exhaled slowly as he followed the Other to a small space in the rocks, his grip tightening on the scepter as the gem began to pulsate with energy as a connection between it and the Tesseract was forged, a portal slowly ripping reality before their eyes.

"Go forth, Loki. A new era begins in Midgard this day," the Other encouraged just before Loki moved forward, stepping into the portal and being swept into a continuum for a few short seconds, where he knelt to keep his balance. He was spat back out again in what felt like two long moments, stable on knee and foot as the roaring rip in the air behind him sucked in upon itself until closed. Steam billowed up around him as he slowly looked up, the Chitauri magic in full force now that he was putting their plans into motion. His eyes focused upon the Tesseract directly across from him in the lab as a maddened grin nearly split his face in two, the demigod slowly rising to his feet.

Chaos broke out shortly within the lab, shots being fired from SHIELD's agents and Loki slaughtering the lot with magic that plunged forth from his scepter at his command, not to mention his procuring one of Fury's most important underlings, Agent Barton. A lull only fell over the room when men lay dead upon the steel floor and Loki turned to Fury, who was attempting to get out of the lab with the Tesseract in tow. "Please don't," he said calmly, Fury halting in his wake. "I still need that."

"This doesn't have to get any messier…," Fury suggested, looking at the scepter-wielding spaceman nearby warily.

"Of course it does," Loki murmured, growing colder inside as he spoke and flashbacks lanced through his mind. "I've come too far for anything else. I am Loki of Asgard, and I am burdened with glorious purpose…"

Dr. Selvig gaped nearby. "Loki? Brother of Thor?"

It was all Loki could do not to snarl at the middle-aged scientist as Fury continued, "We have no quarrel with your people."

His eyes shifted lazily back to Fury. "An ant has no quarrel with a boot," he murmured flippantly.

"You planning to step on us?"

"I come with glad tidings," Loki replied with added friendliness as he stepped away from Barton, "of a world made free."

"Free from what?"

"Freedom," the demigod murmured severely, twitching faintly as the Chitauri energy from the scepter continued to worm through his bones. "Freedom is life's great lie. Once you accept that, in your heart…" He put the point of the scepter against Selvig's chest as he'd done with Barton, watching as cerulean tendrils branched from the gem and permeated the mortal's skin, his irises crystalizing with submission to its power. "You will know peace."

* * *

"You will have your war, Asgardian. If you fail, if the Tesseract is kept from us, there will be no realm, no barren moon, no crevice where he can't find you. You think you know pain?" the Other sneered in their state of psychic connection. "He will make you long for something as sweet as pain…"

Loki felt the Other's clammy hand press against his face just before he was jolted back into consciousness, glancing around like a beaten animal, feral and wary. He heaved a breath before shaking his head and standing, looking up as Barton began to pass him, holding a tablet. "Hold a moment," Loki murmured at the last minute as he rose stiffly, watching as Barton stopped and turned toward him. "Approach me."

Clint stepped forward and Loki raised a hand to his head, closing his eyes before barely touching his skull and delving carefully into the man's mind. He saw many things, some of a redhead who was also an agent for SHIELD, but who had quite a past before settling into a governmental role, his initiation into SHIELD, and even when he'd been prepared to sink an arrow or two in Thor for tearing through so many agents to get to Mjolnir during his banishment.

Finally, he got to what he wanted: the day he and the older agent had come to collect Cora from the warehouse. Loki clenched his jaw faintly as he watched the memories play out, not understanding why he cared and why he wanted to know what had happened so much. Then again, he might've known why and was just unwilling to admit it.

He watched as she was taken to their headquarters, where he had been hours before, and told she was likely going to be given a death sentence. The tale unfolded until he seemed to learn along with her that she was going to be put into deep freeze. Loki's brow knitted as he continued to watch it all unfold, only able to see bits and pieces, given that he was watching from Barton's point of view and he seemed to have extricated himself often, silently disturbed by the injustice of it all.

Loki was prepared to let go when he saw the panic as the Tesseract had started reacting to the connection which had been forming between it and the scepter. Barton had been taking orders from Fury and among those orders was an evacuation plan for all agents. _"And Camo, sir?" _Barton had asked, to which Fury had paused and given a firm nod, noting, _"Of course she's included_._" _In Barton's bank of knowledge, Loki could see that "Camo" had been codename from day one for Cora Dempsey.

The demigod dropped his hand from Barton's head and nodded. "As you were." Barton saluted and then went back to what he'd been doing, Loki following idly to see how things were coming along with Selvig and the Tesseract. _Encased in ice on the sky-craft they've all fled to…_, he mulled over the development as Dr. Selvig turned and saw him, excitedly ranting about the things the relic was revealing to him. _Interesting_.

* * *

Loki idly paced his steel and glass cell, suspended from over thirty-thousand feet, having just been "played" by the red-haired woman, Natasha, to get information on what he was counting on to occur… She'd not gotten the full story, of course, but he was mildly concerned that his plan wouldn't go as he wanted. At least he could think clearly now, without influence from the Chitauri ancients in the scepter and the Other in his head…

Still, how he flinched. How the anger rose within him, how the hatred burned deep… Those were not brought on by the disgusting power which infiltrated his body from the weapon, they were a part of him now. The pain, the memories of torture and agony, the lust for vengeance, the madness which took him over, all this. Whether he wanted them or not.

He sat down, his elbows braced against his knees as he looked down at the floor, at his hands which were riddled with faint scars, the worst of them under his armor. Loki sighed and ran a hand through his hair, growing impatient with his lack of progress just as he heard a roar loud enough to rattle the glass of his prison. A grin spread across his face as agents filtered in, taking shortcuts to get to Fury and warn him of what was happening, the second one stumbling and bumping the control panel in passing with the butt of his rifle.

Loki's jaw clenched as he wondered which button had been hit until a voice spoke from the panel. "Confirm identity for release?" His eyes narrowed and he stepped to the glass, his eyes blazing green as his powers permeated the glass and constructed an illusion of Director Fury near the control panel, using it as a puppet to speak using Fury's voice, "Director Nick Fury."

"Identity confirmed," the automated response chimed and Loki smirked triumphantly as the door before him slid open, a soft chuckle shaking his frame. He glanced around and started across the grated walkway when he heard familiar heavy footsteps beyond the door. Glancing toward the open cell, he created an illusion of himself, which took no more thought than the bat of an eye by now, just as Thor barged in, shouting, "NO!" as he barreled through the illusion, glancing around in confusion.

Loki had made his way back to the control panel as the door shut on Thor, who stood, a look of panic and betrayal on his face, smoothed over by anger. "Are you ever not going to fall for that?" he wondered aloud. "The humans think us immortal…" He smiled wickedly toward the imprisoned heir. "Should we test that?" Flinching as Mjolnir struck the glass and made just the smallest crack, Loki sneered and moved over to the control panel.

Hearing the whirr of a nearby weapon, Loki's hand paused, hovering over the button Fury had used to threaten him earlier, seeing the familiar thin-haired agent approaching with a massive gun of some kind. "Move away, please." Arching a brow, Loki backed off. "You like this? We started working on the prototype after you sent the Destroyer. Even I don't know what it does," he noted as he fired it up. "Do you wanna find out?"

The true Loki had gone after the scepter after leaving the cell, leaving a few illusory versions of himself behind in case he got the opportunity to cause more turmoil where his cell came into play. He stepped in behind Coulson and snarled silently as he rammed the point of his spear through his beating heart, the illusion dropping off as he ripped the tip back and let Coulson hit the as Thor shouted in the cell, mourning the being who was insignificant in Loki's eyes, Loki went to the control panel and opened up the porthole beneath the prison, making eye contact with his brother before dropping him, cell and all.

He stared at the porthole a moment before closing it, starting to walk away as Coulson murmured, "You're gonna lose," which caused him to pause.

Turning slowly, Loki looked at him. "Am I?"

"It's in your nature," he said calmly and Loki wasn't sure why he seemed so at ease.

Rage at the mortal's impertinence roiled as he seethed, "Your heroes are scattered, your floating fortress falls from the sky… Where is my disadvantage?"

"You lack conviction."

Loki shifted forward, opening his mouth to speak just as Coulson fired the weapon, the force of the blast shooting him back through the wall behind him, shaking his head a bit as he sat up and got to his feet, looking around him until he saw a familiar staircase made of the same metal mesh as the rest of the walkways, familiar only because he had seen it in Barton's mind.

He glanced toward his exit briefly before he took the staircase down into the recesses of the ship, having to step over a few portions of the stairs which had been ripped out during the Hulk's rage, no doubt. Loki frowned briefly, closing his eyes and bringing Barton's memories back to the surface before taking the hallway furthest right, which led him to a compact storage area. He'd passed multiple capsules on his way there, shattered and leaking fluid, and the felt his pace quicken as he wondered if the capsule Cora slept inside had come to the same fate.

Just five minutes passed before he found it, at the far corner of the containment area. He approached it slowly, ignoring the discord he could hear in higher levels of the ship as his gaze dropped down to the plate on the side of the steel case, reading, "DEMPSEY, CORA "TARGET: CAMO" #3441."

He cautiously touched his fingertips to the fogged, frozen glass lid, sighing with a tinge of unease as he allowed his hand to slowly transfigure into its true Jotun blue, his eyes shifting to red as he eased the ice on the inside of the glass just enough to see the interior. As just the frost from the glass cleared, he leaned forward to peer inside, his lips thinning into a line as he saw the familiar, formerly fiery-tempered girl inside. The feelings that stirred in him at seeing her this way forced tension into his jaw and spine, his sense of vengeance growing until he tamed the anger. He could almost hear her notifying him that she was—in her word for rage—"pissed."

"As am I, woman," he murmured as he lifted his hand from the glass, his skin returning to porcelain as his eyes became green once more. "As am I."


End file.
